


The Society

by JerrodMErotica



Category: Original Work
Genre: Action/Adventure, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Muscle Growth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-02-28 06:39:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 21,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18751045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JerrodMErotica/pseuds/JerrodMErotica
Summary: Alex, a perfectly normal college student thinks nothing of the possibility of supernatural creatures outside of his cozy town in Maine. Nor does he consider the possibilities of hidden societies and a war right beneath the noses of the common men.But when he meets Jason, a man on the run from the branch of the US government known as the Night Blades, who have been hunting down the remnants of a society of men and women with the ability to transform into humanoid animals for centuries, Alex’s world becomes bigger than he could ever imagine.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> One of my first erotic novels, hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1

 

The moon was dimmed by the thick fixture of leaves that shuttered above us, leaving only the soft street lights and the bright stream the of the car’s headlights to illuminate the street before us.

Although it wasn’t a full moon, my blood nonetheless felt heavy, my heart rate unsteady and quickened.

I continually cast a nervous glance to the line of vehicles behind us, all diligently following the lead car in our transit towards the Washington facility.

I grip the steering wheel to ease the anxiety pulsing heartily in my throat.

“Everything alright?”

I heard my sister say from the passenger seat. Her brown eyes were casted to a sharp black in the shadows that enveloped the car interior.

I attempt to cover my apprehension with a smile.

She immediately sees through the mask.

“You’re worried. Everything is going as planned, commander. We are making a smooth transit.”

She spoke softly, finicking with the thin strands of her hair.

The vehicle continued down the abandoned road, my eyes unconsciously drifting towards the darkness of the forest that lay around us.

I couldn’t shake this lingering foreboding that pulsed with my heartbeat. That took the shape of any inexplicable or monstrous thing that waited draped in the shadows only yards away.

I suck in a weak breath. I needed to concentrate on the task ahead. The Therians, after years of ignorance of the enemy’s proceedings, have finally located the base of operations for the Night Blades. This transit should be used as preparation towards the battle that could finally free my people. Not to wallow in the artificial apprehension the moon’s wicked gaze conjured.

My grip on the steering wheel slackens, and I heard Liv utter a chuckle, and I once again glance at her through the dim light casted from the radio LEDs.

“Finally relaxing are we?”

She said, sensing my emotions with her fine tuned instincts that accomodated her Therian abilities.

For the first time in the few hours of driving, I smile.

And then I hear a sinister crack behind us. It seemed to shake the vehicle we sat in.

“What the fuck was that?”

Liv muttered. We glare through the back windows, not halting the vehicle.

Suddenly static filled the car, and the radio our transit team used came to a searing life.

“Commander there’s oncoming fire-”

Another crack, and the voice was drowned into static.

I pick up my mouth piece, panic thrumming in my pulse, the look of terror in my sister’s gaze only increasing the fear that was taking my body.

“This is the commander, what is the threat quantity- I repeat, what is the threat quantity?”

I slam the acceleration on the car to the floor. There was no way of knowing in the forest that surrounds us, where they are firing from. More cracks were registered, more explosions that rippled the air.

Suddenly, from behind us, the night was casted with hot orange light as the vehicle behind us exploded with that sinister crack, that rang in my attuned ears.

“There’s so much incoming fire, we can’t find a direct source-”

Shouted a woman’s voice on the radio, before the sounds of shearing metal screamed behind us and silenced her.

Liz looks towards me.

I plead the car to speed up, the general’s words loud in my skull. Nonetheless of the casualties. You must continue to your destination. Is that clear?

“Jason- how are we going to-”

Our own car erupts into a brilliance of flame.

My sister and I are thrusted forward. I felt the world revolve as our vehicle turned over. The roof of our vehicle slams unapologetically into the concrete.

The seat belt claws and digs into my shoulder blade and waist.

The radio and utilities are uprooted from their stored positions shift through the air in a frenzy, until the car halts its slide by entering the ditch.

Smoke lay thickly over the car’s interior. My blood rushes to my head, and my hands blindly claw at my seat belt that still held me like a parent clutching a child.

My sensitive ears rung. I cough, feeling a headache pulse at the side of my skull, where I must have slammed it into the window to my side.

I manage to unclip the seat belt, and my body heavily hits the roof of the vehicle.

From the outside, slightly muffled from the ringing in my ears: yelling, gunshots, explosions.

I look over to my sister, through the layer of smoke. She lay on the roof of the car (she had managed out of her seatbelt), a sinister line of blood pulsed from her hairline and down the side of her face.

With my legs, I shatter the driver’s-side window, spreading wicked flakes of glass loudly over the concrete and grass.

“C’mon Liz!”

I yell hoarsely, and one by one we crawl from the smoking vehicle.

I straighten myself, cringing at a pain in my arm, realizing I had unconsciously cut my left arm deeply with the glass that jutted from the car’s broken window.

I glare around, through the dark that was lit with the spreading of vehicle fires, a massive orange coat of light that leapt onto the trees and bark of the forest.

I see men and women, suited with body armor, emerging from the forest, holding weapons up, firing at the incoming Therians. I see blurs of color as men and women with the bodies of humans but the features and power of animals fire and attack the Night Blades. Wolves, bears, lions, striding out into the darkness.

From deeper in the forest, more missiles were launched, a mere streak in the night air until they explode at the feet of the Therians. I turn to see the horrified, angry expression of Liz.

“We need to help them!”

She screamed over the noise. Her body pulsed as she began to transform into her Therian form, her skin thickening and sprouting short brown hair, her specialized clothing expanding as she assumed the form of a humanoid bull.

From yards away, Night Blade soldiers were beginning to notice us, and point their weapons.

Liz was bounding towards the soldiers, abandoning our General’s instruction.

I attempt to follow her.

“Liz! No-”

Before I could finish, the streak of a missile narrowly smooths past me, and explodes the vehicle behind me.

Something forcibly bashes against my skull, and the world blurs into a incomprehensible haze of grey and silence. I’m thrown off my feet, heat spreading over my body. I scream as shards of metal and glass pierce my back. I land on the concrete, skidding to a painful halt on my chest.

My bloodied hands attempt to grasp at the ground. I will myself to get up, my muscles spasming, trying to focus on the world that was nothing but red and blackness.

I manage to get to my knees, and my surroundings slightly focus.

Yards away, the beastial form of my sister lay in the ditch across the street littered with metal, broken earth and concrete.  
Three men in the black suits quickly take her by the arms.

Through the ringing, I can almost hear my sister scream, as she fights against them. I can almost hear her as they begin to drag her away into the forest.

“Jason! HELP!”

My body trembled. All around, I see the bodies of my people, blood strewn over the concrete, fire grinning in the almost black liquid.

And through the haze of terror, and panic, I manage to my feet and retreat into the blackness of the forest, unable to feel the pain in my legs as I strided out. Away from the screaming, the explosions, the gunfire.

I didn’t feel myself transforming as I went. My body thickening, stretching against my clothing.

I ran, the words of my sister echoing in my head even as the horrific red light faded, leaving the only illumination that milky moonlight through the tattered patterns of the leaves.  
Even as the gunfire and screams fade in the distance.


	2. Chapter 2

The morning sun glowed softly over the fine glassy buildings as I walk through the busy streets of Starkfield. Cars jostled pass in a peculiar rhythm as I text on my phone.

“At the cafe? Are you going to help me study for that damn final?”

I text Andrew, absentmindedly glancing up at a passer-by or two, to make sure I didn’t run smack-dab into someone.

A few moments later, I get a brief reply:

“Been here man. Get your ass down here.”

I chuckle to myself, and briskly pick up the pace, passing by my college, and two streets down from it, the cafe that has served as the college students’ “hotspot” near one of the edges of town.

I heard the familiar jingle of bells as I pull its heavy glass door open, and quickly step inside.

The cafe was fairly large, containing a considerable amount of wooden circular tables, and benches, along with an old fashioned counter that ran along the right side of the cafe, fitted with swiveling stools.

I immediately spotted Andrew, and the rest of my friends taking up a circular table towards the middle of the cafe, a single stool noticeably open.

Andrew spots me out of the corner of his eye.

“Ay! Look who finally got here when he was the one who pleaded for me to help him study the day before the test.”

He bellowed teasingly at me, causing a chuckle to go about my group of friends.

With a smile, heaving my backpack onto the table, I sat down heavily onto the stool, next to Andrew.

There were only about four of us, and they had been what I could call family for the longest time, ever since my parents passed. I had no brothers or sisters, so when I had been an orphan in high school, Andrew’s parents took me in.

Andrew and I had immediately gone to work, me scribbling haphazardly on a flimsy notebook, trying to catch up on assignments. It was when Josh, a short guy with shockingly red hair, said something, that my attention was captured.

“You guys hear about the fire-fight that happened just outside of town a few hours ago? Heard about it on my police scanner.”

I lift my pen from my work and look at him questioningly, so does Andrew, who’s blue eyes was focused on Josh intently.

Josh, now seeing that he has seized not only Patrick’s attention, who had been sitting back lazily in his chair, goes on with his information.

“Heard there was a possibility of explosive weaponry, like missiles, or bombs. A whole line of wrecked vehicles. Scared the neighboring people half to shit.”

“What?”

Patrick said softly, picking up his glass of Coke.

Josh simply nodded.

“No bodies. Nothing. Just what remained of vehicles, and bullet casings.”

He continued.

“It’s like people cleaned everything up before the police arrived.”

I let out a breath of air, skeptically.

“Sounds fake.”

Patrick leaned forward from his laxed position.

“I live a few minutes out of town, and I thought I heard something.”

Josh lifted his hands in a gesture of finality, as if that support closed the case.

“Police scanners don’t lie, guys.”

I quickly put in-

“The police could have easily misinterpreted what had happened-”

And Andrew joined-

“What’s next, the police are going to find and arrest big-foot?”

From across the store, the doorbell jingles violently, as if to be ripped from their perch from the momentum of the opening of the door.

This aroused the attention of the entire cafe, and we look to a man stumbling in.

I took a double take, my eyes meeting the cuts running down his arm, glowing a wicked red in the light of the morning sun. Cuts and bruises decorate a thick and husky face covered in a trimmed down beard of dark brown, that would be handsome if in other circumstances. The man was big, his well toned muscles pressing out noticeably against a strange- and tight- black and silver suit.

He stumbled in, his footsteps unfocused, and heavy. He grabs a table to steady himself, almost flips it, resulting in him having to catch himself before meeting with the aged wooden floor. This caused many people around the cafe to stand up suddenly, me including.

The man straightened himself, and mustered words that came out in a thick baritone voice, that was noticeably shaky.

“Where’s a phone?”

He asked the store owner, who stood gawking behind his counter.

He gestured a slim, elderly finger.

“The back hallway, against the wall, sir.”

He stated softly, in a hardly comprehensible whisper.

Nonetheless, the man nodded, and started a pained drudge to the back of the store.

I notice he is favoring a leg.

Everyone continually stares at the stranger, in the strange clothes, and as he begins to pass my table, his leg gave out beneath him. He hits the floor heavily, and hard, nearly shaking the floor.

Out of instinct, without even realizing what I was doing, I run over and assist the fallen man.

“Shit- man are you okay?”

I gasp, offering him a hand up. He takes it immediately, and I pull him up. He was a heavy guy, my average muscles strained as I pulled up his hulkish form.

He was trembling, slightly.

“Th-thank you.”

He said.

“We need to call the hospital.”

I state to him, taking an arm over my shoulder, and helping him slowly towards the phone.

“No-”

He gasped immediately.

“I just need to call my-”

He stumbled with his words.

“Family.”

I look at him with a confused expression, and he doesn’t seem to notice.

“What the fuck happened to you?”

 

I ask, as we reach the aged, dinky phone at the back of the store.

He takes a moment to reply, walking away from me, and towards the phone.

“I-uhm- I got in a bad motorcycle accident a couple miles from town, completely totalled it, and took nasty fall down a steep hill.”

“Shit…”

I say, only imagining, still unable to help but look at the wounds that morbidly decorate his body.

I notice that even on his back, deep cuts lay festering with fresh blood.

He grabs the phone, and dials a set of numbers with agile experience of repetition.

Someone seemingly picks up immediately.

”It’s me. There’s a problem.” 

The man listens to the voice on the other end, looking with a dazed expression into the wall before him.

He replies to the voice:

“Not good. Nothing good.”

More speaking from the other voice.

“I’m in Starkfield, Maine.”

He replied quickly. And as quickly as the call had come, he put down the phone, and rested his back with a pained expression against the wall.

He notices I am looking at him expectantly.

He takes a deep breath, and explains, stuttering noticeably here and there.

“I was on my way to Portland to visit family. I live quite a ways from here. They are unfortunately still on a business trip and can’t get to me. I lost next to everything in the crash.”

I look at him, suspicion inevitably creeping in my mind. On a business trip?  
I thought numbly.  
Why would he be heading to see his family, if they were on a business trip? What’s really going on here?  
But yet I could still feel guilt fighting its way into my head.

He rests his head against the wall, and closes his eyes, as if to contemplate the absolute mess he was in.

He had nothing. No place to go. No money. I squeeze the bridge of my nose, contemplating the stakes.

He was a stranger. He could simply be putting on an act to rob someone and get the hell out of here, and judging by his size, he could easily do so. But those wounds looked real if anything.  
Finally, I make a decision, nonetheless how much common sense screamed at me, nonetheless of the vagueness of his situation. There was a painfully sorrowful expression to his eyes that made it seem he had seen something truly awful, and the overly empathetic part of me was pushing through. He needed help.

“You can stay at my apartment till’ your family gets here.”

He opened his eyes abruptly at this.

“Are you serious?”

He muttered, and I could see a tinge of hope in his dark brown eyes.

I nod to him.

He clasps a hand on my shoulder, in noticeable gratitude.

“God- how can I repay you?”

He said.

I give him a nervous smile.

“Not robbing me..?”

This resulted in a deep chuckle that I couldn’t deny, was very attractive.

“You got it.”

The man takes one of my shoulders, in order to steady himself, and we continue back into the main part of the cafe, with a much more smooth and steady pace.

“My name is Jason, by the way- Jason O’ryan.”

He said.

I nod, and offer him a hand to shake, which he quickly took with a smile that was squinted and pained from his injuries.

“Alex, Alex Garren.”

When we reach my table, where I was receiving several questionable glares from my friends, I quickly stuff my belongings in my bag, and shoulder it.

“What’s going on?”

 

Andrew muttered at me, giving an anxious look to Jason.

I shrug to him with a nervous smile.

“Helping him.”

With that I return to Jason, and we make our way through the cafe, and out the door, away from the bewildered stares of the people inside.

What have I gotten myself into?


	3. Chapter 3

The short walk back to my apartment had been a much more challenging feat than my walk from it. Jason, clutching my jacketed shoulder with his large calloused hand spotted with dry blood, drudged steadily beside me, asking for a short breather from time to time. To my distaste, more stares were directed towards us, people disapprovingly noting Jason’s tight fabric suit, the blood on his face and body. 

Soon enough, though, we finally escaped the watchful eyes of strangers, and exited the clean morning air into the stuffy apartment complex. We trudged slowly up the aged stairwell, until we finally reached my apartement three floors up. 

I made quick work of the lock, and we were inside. 

“Whelp,” 

I say awkwardly, as Jason finally lets go of me, and independently walks into my living room, taking in his surroundings, with a peculiar sort of curiosity, his brown eyes surveying the rickety brown couch that needed replaced, and the old Vizio flat screen that was on its last limb. 

“This is the place. Definitely looks like a college student lives here, right?

I finished, with a chuckle. 

He looks towards my small kitchen, and the hallway to my one bedroom and bathroom. 

Finally he says, 

“It’s great. Seriously. You got a first aid kit?” 

I nod, and gesture towards my bathroom. 

“All you need is in there, in one of the top shelves on the sink.” 

He nodded with gratitude, and slowly made his way to the bathroom, eventually closing himself in under the aged yellow light. 

As soon as the man was gone, I checked my phone, and unsurprisingly, I had received numerous missed calls from Andrew. 

Reassuring myself that with the amount of wounds on his body, he could easily spend a half-hour to an hour in there, I call Andrew back. He answers on the third ring. 

“What the hell is going on?” 

 

I hear him exclaim. In his audio, I hear the sound of traffic. He had left the cafe. 

I brush a hand through my wickery brown hair, anxious. 

“I uh-” 

I began. 

“Andrew, the man needed a place to stay, he got in a motorcycle wreck and his family is gone for the time being.” 

I hear Andrew groan in frustration. 

“You let a stranger into your house? Did you see how big that guy is? What if he kills you in your sleep, robs you, and goes on his merry way?”

 

I had had that exact thought. I sit on the shaky couch, contemplating. From the bathroom, I hear the shower begin to run. An instinctive thought came into my head:   
None of my clothes will fit him, and he definitely won’t want to put that suit back on.

Finally, I respond to Andrew, who had been patiently waiting. 

“Andrew, you didn’t see the look in that man’s eyes. Something really has happened that has shaken him. I don’t know- but he looks…”

I couldn’t muster the correct way to describe the look of loss and pain I had seen in his brown eyes. 

Finally I continue. 

“That pain in his face… It had to be real, Andrew. You’d have to be a damn good actress.”   
Andrew sighed. He knew me and my habits. This was a subject where he could not change my mind.

“Oh God, Alex-” 

He mutters, barely audibly. 

“I hope you know what you’re doing.” 

To that I didn’t respond.

I got up from my perch on my couch, and snatched my car keys from the kitchen counter.

“I gotta get the guy some clothes.” 

And I hang up. 

 

. . . 

 

My body was working overtime to quickly heal my cuts, bruises, sprained leg, and concussion that still pulsed painfully in my head. My heart rate thrummed as my Therian healing abilities wracked up and down my body, my blood feeling painfully solid, making it a struggle to move normally. 

After an hour of showering, and treating my wounds in the bathroom, I had opened the door to find a Walmart sack laying on the floor, its contents at least four days worth of generic, large sized clothing. 

Alex said he had class, and would have to leave until the late afternoon- muttering something about finals- and although clearly reluctant of leaving a stranger in his home, he grabbed his school bag and was gone, leaving the apartment to myself. 

I had no intent of staying. 

I set out into the crisp morning, limping, content of reaching another phone, trying to not feel the grief press hot into my face, the screams of my sister in the back of my mind, and the bloodied bodies of my people shaping each shadow I passed. 

Across the street was a small antique store, the scrawled letters on its block sign hardly comprehensible from age. I enter with a quiet chime of bells. 

The woman behind the counter surrounded with small pieces of china, clearly in her sixties, regarded the large man with the bandages on his arm and hands silently, peering over small spectacles. 

“Phone?”

I ask simply, with what I hoped was an innocent and warm smile. 

She nodded, and gestured for me to follow. 

From there she led me through ancient books, paintings, and vases crowded on shelves, everything looking to be fighting for more space, collecting a thick layer of dust. 

She brought me to a phone on the back wall, this one more modern than the cafe’s, to my surprise. 

“No long distance calls, please.” 

She grumbled, and slowly walked away, her cane balancing her along the way. 

I immediately dial. 

It rang for a few seconds before my father finally picked up.

I heard his sharp toned voice say: 

“Hello?” 

 

“It’s me. I’m alone. Do you have any more intel?” 

“We have fully aborted our Washington facility transit, and are returning towards our headquarters back in New Hampshire. What has happened?”   
I take a breath, trying to ignore the burning of my headache.

“The Night Blades knew, I don’t know how- but they knew- they ambushed us and destroyed our entire fleet of vehicles. I can’t count the casualties, and they have Liz.” 

There was a painful silence on the other line. I comb my fingers through my thick brown hair, leaning against the wall with cracking flower print wall paper. 

“They have captured your sister?” 

I closed my eyes. 

“Yes.” 

I reply, feeling that heat of grief in my face and eyes. Pressing out like hot metal against the skull. 

“Our headquarters are no longer safe. If the Night Blades manage to get her to-” 

“She won’t talk,” 

I snap. 

“I know my sister. They’re going to kill her.” 

There was a lingering silence, before my father spoke again. 

“I will have as many as I can on the task of locating her. We will search areas surrounding Maine.” 

I finally open my eyes again, watching the morning sun glitter brightly off of the sets of china. 

“When can you manage to get here?” 

My father took a breath. 

“I can have a team down there the day after the next full moon, Jason. We must completely rewire our routes to headquarters before any more of our transit fleets are attacked. Our preparations for our assault on the Night Blades in Washington has to be shut down, and dealt with before we can get a team down to you.” 

“What? That’s five days- nearly a week.” 

My father grunted in confirmation.

“Do you have somewhere to stay?” 

I sigh, squeezing my eyes shut in frustration, my hands in painful fists. 

“Yes. A human has taken me in.” 

I say. 

“Good. Stay safe-” 

Suddenly voices are heard in his audio feed.

“I have to go, goodluck son.” 

And he was gone. 

I put the phone back, a strange feeling of numbness replacing the pain of my healing. 

Five days in Starkfield.

I think bitterly. 

How will my “family on a business trip” lie hold up in that time? 

I walk out of the store, thanking the woman on the way out. 

Alex is going to get suspicious, especially that friend of his. 

He remembers hearing Alex’s conversation on the phone, just before stepping into the shower. 

He has never met a man like him, wanting nothing but to help those in need nonetheless of the danger he is risking himself.   
I reach the apartment complex, opening the door and stepping in, Alex’s words loud in my head. 

I may make it out of this. 

Maybe.


	4. Chapter 4

Finals had stretched much further through the day, and by the time I got home, it was the evening. I swung my rickety apartment door open, and to my undeniable relief, found Jason fast asleep on my couch. I walked over to the living room, silently placing my car keys on the kitchen counter, looking absentmindedly at my asleep guest. He looked big on my small and unsavory couch.

He had no blanket, wearing jeans and t-shirt I had bought him, his thick, meaty arms placed behind head. When out of that strange suit, he looked astonishingly normal, other than his potent masculinity. His face was filled, suiting a husky-handsome that cleaned up nicely, though he kept his close shaven beard.

Realizing I was staring, I quickly make my way to my room, feeling weariness heavy in my head, and collapse onto my bed. Before I knew it, I was drifting off into a peaceful and dreamless sleep.

 

. . .

The morning of the arrival of Jason in my apartment began perfectly normally.

I was making coffee and cereal when Jason finally wakes up.

“Mornin’.”

I say to the man, as he sat up on the couch, running his fingers through his matted brown hair, and looks up to me with brown eyes sporting thick shadows beneath them.

“Morning.”

He said groggily, his deep voice hoarse. Getting to his feet, he stumbled slightly, as if to adjust himself to his balance.

“You feeling better?”

I say, peering at him over my coffee cup as I take a sip.  
He nods, stepping over to the counter.

“Fundamentally.”

He said simply.

A newspaper on the counter captures his interest, and he takes it under his arm.

He heads towards the hall, calling as he went:

“Off to the shower.”

The deep cut along his arm was mostly faded and healed, along with the cuts and bruises on his face.

I noticed he no longer walked with a limp.

How is that possible? It’s been a day.

I decidedly put it off to the side.

I take my cereal, coffee and cell phone and plop down on the sofa, next to Jason’s Walmart bag of clothes.

After a few minutes, I hear the shower turn off, and the door opens.

Without evening thinking anything of it, I listen as I hear the heavy padding of bare feet walk up the hallway.

And then I look up.

Jason walks lazily towards the couch, completely naked, water droplets still smoothing over his bareskin.

I gasp, making Jason stop in his tracks.

“Why the hell are you naked, man?”

I exclaim.

He folds the newspaper he was still reading, and tossed it onto the kitchen counter.

Unable to resist, I look down to his body.  
Massive pectorals bulge, hairs laying thickly over his chest, damp, laying flat on his body. A solid six pack was bricked impressively on his stomach, the hair narrowing as it smooths over the abdominals. His arms are veiny, and thick, his shoulders and back muscles straining in its broad mass, along with his legs. His quads were bulked, each muscle group visible, and strong.

Following a deeply set V on his lower abdominals and a bush of pubic hair, a thick cock hung between his legs, its veiny shaft leading to a bulbous head, the two mounds of his testicles dangling.  
It had to be four to five inches long flaccid, at least.

I was getting steadily hot in the face.

“What?”

 

He said innocently, putting his hands on his hips, curiously eyeing my petrified expression.

I rip my eyes away from his body.

“Don’t you know not to walk around someone’s house in the buff?”

I snap.

Although I was resisting, I felt my own cock begin to thicken to chub in my pants.  
My face burned.

Jason looked down to himself briefly, and back up to me, his expression genuinely confused.

“Oh- sorry- my kind-”

He stopped himself abruptly.

“My family-”

He corrected.

“Are used to being open with our bodies.”

I try to keep my gaze on his eyes.

“I’m not your family man! Get some clothes on!”

I snap.

He strided over, (I accidentally let a glance slip at his bouncing cock, and I thickened further towards an erection, my heart racing) and he stood close, right to my side and scooped up his clothes, but in that time his impressive package had been nearly in my face.

As he straightened and began to walk away, he paused, still only a couple of inches from me.

He looked at me curiously once more, and said with a smile:

“You getting a stiffy, man?”

My heartbeat bolted in my throat.

“No!”

I Immediately deny it.

How the hell could he possibly know that?

He just smiled cooly at me, as if him knowing that without even seeing my cock was perfectly normal.

“I can sense it, your horniness is practically radiating off of ya’, it’s alright bud,”

He said, turning back to me.

“Wanna pull it out?”

I hear my heart pounding in my ears.

Glancing down, I notice his cock begin to thicken to a massive chub, which already easily puts the size of my fully erect cock to shame. My erection strained in my pants.

“Put some damn clothes on.”

I say, a bit shakily.  
Jason shrugs, with an innocent grin, and turns.

Unable to resist, I watch his round ass as he goes, until he disappears into the bathroom, with the solid click of the door.

I take a deep breath, my heart still erratic. With Jason out of the room, my cock softens just slightly. Forgetting my coffee and cereal, I head over to the counter, grab my keys, and head out for work, the after image of Jason’s cock burned into my head.

 

. . .  
“Liz O’Ryan, right? It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

A cold voice jutted sharply through the darkness that I was wrapped in. My eyes stiffly open, and I’m greeted by a single pale light that burned on lamp a few feet away.  
Before me, a tall man with a narrow, bearded face slouched, studying me.  
I attempted to move from my seated position, but my arms were shackled tightly to my armrests, by thick and electronic cuffs.  
I was in a dark cemented room, the strong aroma of moisture and mold suggesting I was someplace beneath the earth.

Pale eyes look out from the shadows of the man’s features, as he glares at me, in a form of sinister curiosity.

“Incredible,”

The man breathed, his voice icy in my ears, and I cringed at the sound.

“In this form, you look utterly human. Not a single thing out of place. No one could possibly know the monster you really are.”

I say nothing, only straining against the restraints on my wrists and ankles.

“Oh,”

The man said,

“Don’t try to transform darling. If those cuffs detects an abnormal heart rate or bodily changes, it will deliver a shock.”

He pats a tray of tools on an aluminum cart. Knives, syringes, plyers-

I close my eyes painfully, unable to continue looking at it.

“Now, let’s get to the point, shall we?”

The man said, pulling at his sleeves on his dark Night Blade suit.

“Where are the Therians hiding?”

I open my eyes, and I’m met immediately by those pale eyes, glaring expectantly.

“How did you know our routes to Washington. How did you know to ambush us.”

That resulted in a chuckle from the man. He took a step away, looking rather content with himself.

Knowing he wouldn’t respond, I put in:

“There’s a spy among my kind. Isn’t there.”

It wasn’t a question, and he ignores it as swiftly as he had ignored the last.

“Do I look like I’m sitting in that chair?”

He asked coldly.

“You aren’t asking the questions here.”

He lifts a slim knife from the tray, and thrusts it firmly into one of my quads.

Stars burst before me eyes. I scream, my throat rattling, pain burning like coals beneath the blade.

I gasp as he pulls it from my leg, looking at the blood collected on it with morbid fascination.

“I know how you freaks work. You heal quickly. So we can hurt you. Wait for you to heal, and hurt you again.”

I flinch as he runs a finger along the open wound, which would be bleeding profusely if I had been a human.

“Over, and over, and over, and over.”

Tears blur my vision, and spill down my cheeks.

This man can’t be a human being.

I look into the man’s icy eyes that burned in their sockets. He grips the knife maniacally, ready to sear my flesh at any wrong word.

“So tell me, young lady,”

He mutters.

“Where are your people?”


	5. Chapter 5

As the next few days passed by smoothly, my finals were winded up and my semester came to an end. The routine of Jason and I was simple enough: I would head out to my part-time job, where I worked at an assembly line at a factory with Andrew, and Jason would stay at my apartment. He told me he would sometimes call his family, go to the library a few blocks down, or simply take a walk through the early Summer sunshine and the bustling streets of Starkfield. 

 

After the first occurrence of walking in my apartment in the buff, to my very hidden disappointment, Jason ceased to do it. 

 

Andrew and Josh would frequently come over during Jason’s time in my apartment, when our work schedules would finally let us catch a breather, and we would talk, watch movies, or head down to the cafe to listen to a performance. 

 

“So where you from Jason?”

 

Josh asked, as he grimaces and flocked his red bangs out of his eyes with his fingers.

 

Jason stretched his arms from his spot on the floor, his triceps flexing.

 

“I live around the border of Massachusetts and Maine, with my sister.” 

 

He said, attempting to dampen a yawn that threatened. 

 

“Damn,” 

 

Josh replied. 

 

“That’s a ways away. Why would you take a motorcycle that distance? It would eat the hell out of your gas money.”

 

Suddenly, Jason’s expression froze, as if realizing he had said something wrong. I lean forward from my spot on the rickety couch, no one at this point paying attention to the cheesy sci-fi flick playing.

 

“I-well- love motorcycle expeditions and driving that distance is always a good time.” 

 

He stuttered, looking with a sudden avidity towards the television. 

 

Andrew speaks next.

 

“So, it’s been what- nearly four days since you’ve got here? What’s going on with that family of yours?”    
  


There was an awkward silence, only the blasting of noises as aliens invaded Earth on the television. 

 

Finally Jason replied, his tone low, and collected. 

 

“They’ve been running into unforseen car problems on their way home from the business trip.” 

 

I look over to Andrew, who’s intent blue eyes eyed Jason suspiciously. 

 

“What about that sister of yours?”    
  


Jason replied quickly, but stuttered, only slightly. 

 

“She’s on a trip with her boyfriend.” 

 

The same suspicion crept sharply up my spine.  His story was odd, and very convenient. 

 

Jason continued a strangely abrupt attentiveness to the film playing. 

 

Andrew crossed his arms, casting glances every now and then to my guest. 

 

After two or so hours, Josh was called in from the police department. The group dispersed, but as Andrew was exiting my apartement, he motioned for me to follow. 

 

I cast a glance to Jason, who was sitting at the kitchen counter, his attention buried in a flimsy paperback novel. 

 

I decidedly follow my adoptive brother. 

 

He closes the door firmly, and together, a slow pace, we make a descent down the stairwell, the orange sun of the ending day drifting lazily from the window, casting pools of vibrant color over my face, and Andrew’s thick blond hair. 

 

“That man in there- he’s bullshitting you. I don’t know why he’s here, and why he’s been here for so long, but nothing good can possibly come from this.”    
  


We reach the bottom of the staircase, and exit the building into the glow of the evening. 

I knew Andrew’s suspicions were right. His story did not add up, and with each possible solution to his problems, he has a roadblock waiting. He is supposedly in the perfect predicament, all solutions not an option, so that his only resolve is to remain at my apartment until his family arrives. 

 

“He hasn’t acted dangerous towards me at all. Yes- it seems like he might be hiding something- but he-” 

 

I start, but Andrew quickly cut me off.

 

“ _ Might be?  _ Alex, I see nothing but a guilty liar when he speaks about himself, or why he’s here. Why the hell are you defending him?” 

 

I close my eyes, imagining once more his bloodied expression at the cafe. That haunting gaze that I still notice when he assumes I’m not watching, slightly slipping from his expression: An intense sorrow where I couldn’t possibly imagine originated from. 

 

Andrew spoke again. 

 

“You’re defending him, because you have the hots for the guy.” 

 

I rebound. 

 

“ _ What?”  _

 

I say, attempting, but unable to contain the heat that flushed my cheeks. 

 

Andrew glared at me with an expression I’ve never seen on him. His blue eyes formed into a look of a sort of dark knowing. 

 

“I’ve seen the way you look at him.” 

 

He continued. 

 

I abruptly stop walking, and it takes him a moment to realize that I’m no longer at his side. 

He turns back to me.    
  


I stand, taken aback. He has never spoken or referred to me about my bisexuality before. 

 

He reads my expression as if he simply read a newspaper article. 

 

He sighed, 

 

“Yeah, I’ve noticed. You’re my best friend and adoptive brother, do you think I wouldn’t notice?” 

 

I feel a surge of nervousness and respect for him in that moment.

 

I feel my face burn, and he speaks again. 

 

“Alex. You need to realize the situation at hand. If something happens bud, then just know that I warned you. Know that you’re wading in waters you need to get the hell out of.” 

 

And with that, he turns, walking towards his and Josh’s apartment, enveloped in that orange blaze of sun. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	6. Chapter 6

The fourth day since Jason’s arrival began, and Alex had a hefty morning to early afternoon shift to endure, and Josh was to be on patrol for most of the day. Deciding that I should probably get my ass out of bed, since it was nearing 12pm, with the sun burning bright and steadily from my bedroom window, I dress and decidedly walk down to the cafe through the crisp early Summer air for a coffee, and to scavenge something to do with my day. 

 

Morning traffic has well since been subsided and was at a lulling pace, as I strolled through crosswalks, taking in the warm sun and a light breeze that brushed through the streets. Within a few minutes I arrived at the familiar heavy glass door. I open it, hearing the chime of the bells softly. I’m suddenly stolen by a memory of the violent clatter of those same bells, as Jason barged into the cafe, beginning the strange days that were to come. 

  
As I sit towards the middle of the counter, I still hear the bells screaming in my head. 

 

John: the aged owner smiled when he looked up from his show, which was playing quietly on a mounted t.v. behind him, and spotted me. 

 

“Ah, Mr. Andrew Martin, what can I get for ya’ kid?” 

 

He hollered cheerfully. 

 

I chuckle, glancing slightly at the show he had been watching. A werewolf currently is evading an angry mob of villagers, as they brandish their torches and spears maniacally. 

 

“A coffee, just dark, please.” 

 

I ask, returning my gaze to John. 

 

He nods, and clasps the coffee pitcher on his side of the counter, and grabs a tall coffee mug. 

 

“The usual.” 

 

He said, pouring my drink.. 

 

He slides it over, and resumes his gaze to the t.v.

 

Absentmindedly, I watch as the werewolf is finally caught. He is speared, aged special effects visualizing the werewolf’s thick flesh as it is punctured, blood spurting outwards like a geyser. 

I sip my coffee, its hot smooth texture warming my throat and lips. 

 

John goes to the beginning of the counter, to help a man puzzling over a crossword, who had gestured him over, when the chiming of the bells call. 

 

I look over to find three men dressed in pristine black dress suits. They were muttering among themselves, keenly surveying the cafe before them. One of them meets my gaze and I self-consciously tear my eyes away, momentarily. 

 

It is when John addresses the guests, that I look back. 

 

“Hello gentlemen, how may I be of business to you today?”    
  


The store owner asked politely. 

 

One of the men, his dark skin reflective of the pale light cast into the store, steps towards the counter. 

 

“Have you seen a six foot man recently in your establishment sir? Brown hair, brown eyes, and beard.”

 

I take in a shuddering breath. 

 

_ They can’t be describing…  _

 

But then the man continues. 

 

“Goes by the name of Jason.” 

 

My blood felt as if to freeze. I put down my coffee cup, glaring at the suited men, who must work for the government or an agency. 

 

John pocketed his slightly wrinkled hands, and gives them a slow nod, his eyes dark and unfocused, as to be calling forth a memory. 

 

“A big guy had come in four days ago,”

 

John stated softly. 

 

“He was covered in blood, wearing this strange black and silver suit. Said he needed a phone.” 

 

The men looked among themselves, anticipation clear in their stature. 

 

Another man spoke, his thin wiry black hair pasted flat on his head with hair gel. 

 

“Are you aware of his movements after his visit here?” 

 

He spoke in a high, sharp voice, eager. 

 

John pursed his thin lips. 

 

“I believe a young lad helped him out of the store. His name is Alex, he’s been a regular in my cafe for nearly fifteen years. A good kid, just wanted to help the poor fella’ out.”

 

_ Jason is a wanted man. Alex has been harboring a wanted man.  _

 

An intense panic coaxed through my body, searing at me like an icy blade. 

 

The third and final man, who had his thumbs buried on his smartphone, in the task of taking notes on the situation, spoke. 

 

“Anything you can tell us about this ‘Alex’ individual?”

 

Decidedly, I reply, looking over to the men, my hands shaking. 

 

“Alex is my foster brother.” 

 

The man with the dark skin’s eyes widened.

 

John looked over to me curiously, not having known this information, since John and I rarely spared each other conversations beyond the confines of friendly small-talk. 

 

I proceed to tell them everything I knew from the past four days. 

 

Alex’s address, Jason’s living arrangements. Everything. 

 

Once I was finished, one of the men thanked me courteously for my service, which I hardly heard, and the men hurriedly exited the store, fading into the light of the afternoon. 

 

John looks to me, and I see fear in his eyes, the same fear that wracked my body. 

 

“Is our Alex okay?” 

 

I look at him, dazed, and don’t respond. 

 

Alex would be at work for at least until 3pm. I felt an overwhelming urge to call him as soon as he would pick up, but I attempt to push away that compelling thought. 

 

If I call him, and Jason is near Alex, Jason would clearly become suspicious.

 

He could hurt, or even kill Alex. 

 

I grip the counter tightly, my knuckles beading a pale white, attempting to alleviate the pressure of anxiety and fear in my head.

 

On the television, the beast was slain. Its hulking corpse bleeding on the rugged earth. A young and beautiful woman, cleary the beast’s human form’s love interest, is draped in mourning over the body of the beast, tears shiny over her features in the moonlight. 

I suddenly see Alex as that woman. 

_ Sacrifice, _

I think, attempting to recollect my faltering mentality with common sense, and facts. 

_ It’s what it takes to restore order to the nature of things. The infection has to be located and cut out, for the good of everyone.  _

 

_ Alex… What have you gotten yourself into?  _

  
  
  


**.    . .**

  
  
  


Alex’s shift ended much later than he had expected, and he came drudging into the apartment at a late 6:00pm. I look up from the paperback novel I had found stuffed in his linen closet, and offer  a smile to my host, who nodded in greeting, throwing his keys towards the kitchen counter, and plopping wearily down on the couch next to me. 

 

“You look like you just got hit by a bus, bud.” 

 

I say, closing my novel, and leaning back.

 

Alex chuckles, resting his fingers in the tangle of his matted brown hair. 

 

“You would too if you were at an assembly line most the day.”

He says, jokingly. For a moment we meet eyes, his green irises vibrant against the dark shadows under his tired eyes. Suddenly, he looks away nervously.

 

This makes me smile. Humans had very different ways of dealing with their infatuation towards people, compared to my kind, where men and women alike showed no fear in telling what they felt to their loved ones. 

 

Where Therians were out in the open and shameless, humans were confined and nervous. 

 

I thought back avidly to Alex’s facial expression when I had finished my shower, and walked into the living room in the buff. 

 

I remember feeling his quickening heart beat when I was inches away, the growing strength of the stark scent of his human horniness as he looked at my body.    
  


Admittedly, I was disappointed when he rejected my proposal to have a bit of fun.

 

I would have liked to see what he had under those pants, and how a human felt in bed. 

 

Ever since, there were many occasions similar to this, where he would nervously slip from my gaze. 

 

Finally, I pull myself from my thoughts, and break the lingering silence. 

 

“You look starved. What about dinner?” 

 

Alex looked up from his gaze at his wooden floor, and nodded. 

 

“I feel like I could eat a horse. But I’ll have to run to the store real quick.” 

 

He moves to stand, but I stop him, grabbing him by the shoulder. 

 

“You’ve been working all day, I can walk to the store and get something for us. It’s only a couple of blocks.” 

 

Alex’s expression was reluctant, but somewhere in those astonishingly hot eyes of his, I sensed he was grateful. 

 

He rummages his work pant’s pocket, and pulls out his wallet, and tosses it to me. 

 

“Get us something hot to eat, thanks man.” 

 

I smile, feeling slightly warm in the chest. He was trusting me with his wallet, when he met me but four days ago. 

 

I nod to him, and exit his apartment, down the stairwell I was growing to know, that was becoming a normality, and into the steady warmth of the evening. 

 

The sun was low in the sky, barely cresting the tall buildings around me, offering a sharp sparkle to the glass windows, that danced in the air like flashlights. 

 

My body could feel the nearing of the full moon, that would rise tonight, which would force me into a transformation. My heart rate slightly unsteady, my body sweaty, an unnatural energy surging through my veins like a morbid caffeine. 

 

It was my final day in Starkfield. Tomorrow, I will be meeting a team that has been sent to retrieve me at the cafe.

 

The path ahead of me was clear: to save my sister. 

 

But there was a part of me that was reluctant to leave this town. 

 

A part of me that wanted to forget the war that has been placed on the Therians for centuries. To remain here, with Alex. 

 

For the first time in my life, I have gotten a taste, though dreadingly small, of something I had never had:  _ normality.  _

 

Serving and commanding the Therian army alongside my father was all I have known, but now I finally know of the peace that human beings live in. Now I want more.  

 

I finally reach the grocery store, its bright illuminated letters hung above the sliding doors glowing a ghostly white in the fading of the light outside.

 

I grab a hot, ready to go turkey, some sides to go with it, and head to the register with a brisk pace. 

 

A young and pretty redhead girl was at the counter, and quickly scanned my items with the fluency of someone who had done this task hundreds of times. 

 

She eyed me skeptically as she worked, bagging my groceries. 

 

“Now that’s definitely a new face. Not from here are ya’?” 

 

I shake my head with a smile, as I pay for the groceries, running it as credit, not knowing Alex’s pin. 

 

“I’m not, but,” 

 

I pick my groceries as the receipt is printed noisily. 

 

“I like it here.” 

 

She gives me a polite parding nod as I exit the the building, once again swallowed by my thoughts:

 

pondering a dream life, as the light in the Summer air dimmed further, draping the cement buildings with dark cloaks of shadow. 

 

A life where I was a human, like Alex. Where I went to work, making money to pay for tuition, building the foundation of a long life of peace to come. 

 

As I turn a corner, clasping the groceries with my hands, Alex’s apartment complex now stands before me, across the street.

There was a sleek black Chevy parked in front of the building, a tall dark skinned man leaning against the passenger door, covered with fine-looking black dress clothes, speaking quietly into his ear piece, gazing up towards the building. 

 

I thought nothing of it as I near the man on my way to the apartment door, but as I step onto the cement of the sidewalk, my keen sense of hearing picks up his voice: 

 

“This is the place that Andrew kid said his foster brother lived. He is inside now- his car is parked in the parking lot.” 

 

A coldness spears my body.

 

The man continues, his breath heavy in the words he muttered. 

 

“We may proceed whenever your team is ready. If that Therian is in there, he won’t come without a fight.” 

 

I attempt to pass the man as nonchalantly as possible,  keeping my head meticulously turned in order to hide my facial features. 

 

My heart pounds in my throat. 

 

_ I have to get Alex the hell out of here.  _ __   
  


Once I enter the complex and the door shuts firmly behind me, I bound up the stairs, taking three at a time.

 

_ I don’t know how much time we have, they could be surrounding this building at this very moment. _

 

I think, in the blinding haze of my panic. 

 

I stumble into Alex’s apartment, slam the door behind me, and lock it. 

 

Not even realizing it, the groceries I had gotten slipped from my grasp, the turkey and sides clattering to the floor noisily. 

 

Alex, who had been seated comfortably on the couch, sits up abruptly. 

 

When he sees my fearful expression, he looks worrisome.

 

“What’s going on Jason?” 

 

He asks, getting to his feet. 

 

My body had already been sweaty from the anticipation of the full moon, but now droplets of beady sweat drip from my hair line and over my brow. My back and chest was becoming increasingly damp. 

 

“We have to get out of here. Now.” 

 

I say, breathlessly. I scoop up the Walmart bag of clothes Alex had gotten me. 

 

Alex’s worried face was now growing into a visage of fear. 

 

“Is this a fucking joke?” 

 

He exclaims, watching me as I bound over to one of the windows, and peer outside. 

 

In the shadows of the street, a large black van is pulling in front of the complex. 

 

“No, we have to go, and now- is there a back exit?” 

 

I say, glaring around the apartement in increasing panic, attempting to ignore the pounding of my heart. 

 

_ No weapons. Nothing.  _

 

Alex snaps back.

 

“No-no-no,” 

 

He snarls, anger beaming in his face. 

 

“What the hell is going on Jason!” 

 

He grabs me by the shoulder before I could run down the hall to check the other windows for an escape route.

I turn back to him. Fear, anger, confusion fill those green eyes. 

 

“This is my fault,” 

 

I say, shakily. 

 

“Because you took me in, they think that you’re associated with me.” 

 

He rebounds, his voice uneven. 

 

“‘ _ They’?  _ What the fuck are you talking about?”

 

Suddenly, my hearing picks up footsteps, and voices from the other side of the apartment door. 

 

A violent pounding on the flimsy wooden door shakes the apartment, and a loud, male voice calls viciously from the other side. 

 

“OPEN THIS DOOR!” 

 

That same coldness snakes down my spine, and Alex glares at the door, terror forming over his features. 

 

“We’re out of time.” 

 

I mutter. 

 

A loud bang sheared through the apartment, screaming in my ears. 

 

_ They’re breaking down the door. _

 

I manage to grab Alex by the waist and throw him into the hallway. He lands on the hollow sounding wood paneling, hard, shaking the kitchen. 

 

“STAY DOWN-” 

 

I attempt to scream, but the door, with a violent crash slams open, unhinging from wall, and tumbling onto the floor of the apartment. 

 

Men dressed in the Night Blade uniform immediately charge in, all armed with weapons. 

I don’t allow them time to react. 

 

I charge at them, with the speed and aggressive motion of an animal. 

 

Before they can take fire, I grab one of the men by the throat and arm, my fingers sinking viciously into his windpipe, and hurl him with ease towards his comrades. The abrupt impact of the body caused them to miss-fire, their bullets plunging into the planks and walls of the apartment. 

 

In the back of my mind, somewhere in the hallway, I hear Alex scream. 

 

I feel my muscles contract beneath my clothes, my body instinctively wanting to transform at the presence of danger. 

 

I suppress it. 

 

_ No. Not here. Not in front of Alex.  _

 

I quickly dive for a fallen rifle, but one of the soldiers quickly recovered from the impact of their comrade’s body, and made a grab at me. He put his arm forcefully around my throat, pressing my adam’s apple painfully into my windpipe as he attempts to choke me out. 

 

I slam my elbow into the man’s stomach, causing him to retch painfully, as the force of its impact most likely ruptured his stomach or kidneys. He is sent backwards, onto his ass. 

 

I finally pick up one of the fallen rifles. 

 

Suddenly, as one of the soldiers manage to their feet, they exclaim into their earpiece receiver: 

 

“ _ Back up- Requesting back up-”  _

 

Before he could finish, I send a bullet into his skull, his forehead morbidly rupturing inwards in a spurt of blood. The man’s body lifeless falls to the floor. 

 

The other soldier had been knocked unconscious from her head being forced into the floor by the impact of the man I threw. 

 

The room was clear, other than the man groaning in pain on his back behind me, gripping his stomach as he wretched blood over the wood paneling.  

I turn back to Alex. His face is white, glaring at the scene at my feet, and then finally up to me. He was looking at me as if I was a stranger to him. 

 

I suddenly notice the groaning of the man behind me had stopped. 

 

Alex  grabs a coffee cup from the counter.

 

“ _ Jason- he pulled out a gun-”  _

 

Before I could react, Alex released the cup at the end of the arcing motion of his arm. 

 

It shatters vehemently into the skull of the man, who had pulled out a pistol to fire at me. 

 

His head firmly meets the floor as he loses consciousness, spewing glass shards into the air like sparks. 

 

I look back to a flustered and breathless Alex, who looked to still be registering what he had done. 

 

_ He… He saved me life.  _

 

I can only glare speechless at him, as he straightens. 

 

“A fire escape is at my bedroom window-” 

 

He exclaims, attempting to suck in weak breaths.

 

“We need to get the hell out of here.” 

  
  
  



	7. Chapter 7

I lead Jason into my bedroom and slam my door shut, locking it. 

 

“There’s more coming. A lot more.” 

 

Jason says breathlessly. Sweat drenches his white generic brand shirt, his face covered in a shiny glaze. There was something odd to his features that I couldn’t place, a growing brutish and animal-like countenance that was unnerving. I put it off to the side. 

 

My body felt as if to me several steps ahead of my thoughts. 

 

I wrench my window open, which lead to a rusted metal fire escape, the light of my bedroom casting a pale illumination into the falling darkness of the night. 

 

We diligently climb out the window, and clammer down the rickety fire-escape. 

 

_ Those men did not look like the FBI.  _

 

I think, among the consternation wreaking havoc in my mind. 

 

We reach the bottom of the fire escape, and unlatch the ladder so that is clatters to the cement below. 

 

I unsteadily climb down the ladder, Jason directly following suit behind me. Once we reach the cement of the alleyway, I grasp my hands on my knees, my chest heaving to catch my breath, my heart pounding tumultuously in my ears. 

 

“Who the fuck are they?” 

 

I gasp, my voice noticeably raspy. 

 

I start to jog to the opposite end of the alley, towards the parking lot, where my car was parked. Jason follows.

 

“They call themselves Night Blades. They are-” 

 

As we reach the end of the alley, a voice yells at the other end of the alley. 

 

“ _ They’re escaping through the alleyway- they’re almost to the car!”  _

 

Like a sharp snap in the night air, the men take fire. 

 

We dive into the safety behind a building as shards of brick explode in spray of dust on the side of the building. 

 

I don’t feel my legs as the two of us bound to my car. There, I unlock it, and we throw ourselves on the peeling leather of the seats.

 

Starting it, I back it out, and exit onto the parallel street behind the apartment complex.

 

I push the car to forty miles an hour, my body unnervingly numb, my limbs seemingly running on autopilot. 

 

Devoid of my realization, I was instinctively driving us towards exit of town, near my college and the cafe.

 

With danger finally out of reach, I find myself capable of speaking. 

 

“What the hell is going on. What the fuck are ‘ _ Night Blades’?”  _

 

I don’t look at Jason as he sighs from the passenger seat, my eyes dart cautiously about the road and surrounding streets. 

 

He finally reply, his baritone voice noticeably more potent than it usually is. 

 

“Night Blades are a branch of the government who hunt down my kind.” 

 

I give Jason a questioning sideways glare. 

 

“My ‘kind’?” 

 

From my peripheral vision, he smooths a hand over his sweaty brow. 

 

“They hunt down Therians.” 

 

There was a silence, nothing but the night traffic, and the humming of the radio static.

 

Finally, I reply, a bit shakily. 

 

“Therians. Therianthropy? Like from a kid’s book? Are you telling me- that you can turn into an animal?” 

 

Jason simply nods. 

 

I see my college, standing tall amongst the sun that has almost completely dissolved on the horizon. 

 

Before us- the town exit.

 

I pick up my speed. 

 

“No. You are bullshitting me. It’s your fault I’m in this car with you, running for my life. Stop fucking telling me lies.” 

 

He attempts respond, when suddenly from the perpendicular road, where cars yielded to my street, headlights flash from the passenger window, causing us both to flinch. 

 

Jason tries to yell out-

 

“ALEX-THEY’RE GOING TO-” 

 

My body is wrung against my seat belt as a vehicle rams into my car. 

 

I lose control of the vehicle, my hands blindly going at the steering wheel. We spin out, and the vehicle violently meets with a building. 

 

There were no airbags in the aged vehicle, so my head is thrown into the steering wheel, causing a detrimental dance of stars to flash before my eyes.

 

I reach for the door handle, I weakly thrust my door open. 

 

I unclip my seatbelt, and stumble out of the car, the world whirling around me in a incomprehensive blur. 

 

Losing my footing, I scrap painfully onto the cement on my chest. 

 

From across the street, I spot a large postage box, and crawl towards it. 

I grip the cool metal, and lean my shaking back against it. My limbs ached. A headache pounded maliciously against my skull. I grit my teeth. 

 

I look back to what was the wreckage of my car. 

 

The entire hood had been dented and smashed in by the impact of the building. 

 

Glass from the passenger side window lay strewn over the cement, sparkling lightly in the illumination of the street lamps. 

 

I see the figure of  Jason, as he climbs out of the vehicle, his body landing on the cement. 

 

Blood was splattered over his white shirt. Cuts from glass shards lay carved onto his face like morbid tattoos. 

 

The vehicle that had hit us: a large black van, was parked several yards away. 

 

The doors set at the back of the van are thrown open, and men and women dressed in black spill out into the night air in uniform fashion. 

 

They’re weapons aim towards the wreckage.

 

Jason was pinned. He sits with his back against the side of the car. I see his chest heaving labored breaths. 

 

There was nowhere he could possibly escape to. He would have to surrender. 

 

My hands tremble as I grip the postage box, leaning my body out of the sight of the armed men and women. 

 

Jason then does something I did not expect. He stands. 

 

Looking more closely, I realize something unnatural was happening to his body. 

 

My breath is caught in my throat as his muscles press out against his shirt, tearing it. His body swells, his legs ripping his jeans, his feet outgrowing his shoes. 

 

I hear Jason let out a deep growl that sends a tremor of cold through my body. 

 

Brown hair sprouts over his growing mass. His face and jaw crack open as a short muzzle forms against his facial features.  I glare in horrified dismay as thick horns curve out of his skull, glinting wickedly in the lights around him. 

 

Where Jason had once stood, a hulking humanoid bull stood at at least 6”4’, Jason’s tarnished clothing laying in tatters around the mass of its body. 

 

Jason bolts from the shelter of the wrecked vehicle, directly at the incoming threat. 

 

I painfully suppress the urge to yell towards him: 

 

_ Stop! You’re going to get shot! _

 

Several gunshots ring out into the evening air. 

 

Jason flinches as several bullets enter his body, but he continues his primitive charge.

 

He lowers his head, and spears the nearest man with his horns, barreling through the line of men and women, causing them to be flatten to the concrete. 

 

Jason heaves the speared man from his horns, and with the fluency of a man hurdling a light child, he thrusts the body towards a man who stood to take aim. Before he was knocked off his feet, though, he got a shot in. The bullet pierces Jason’s chest, causing him to recoil backwards, momentarily losing his footing.

 

He lets out a thunderous roar that echoed and seared the streets around us. 

A man and woman scramble to their feet to face the oncoming threat of the humanoid bull, but he is too fast. 

 

He slams his fist into the face of a woman, and she is sent off of her feet, onto the sidewalk behind them. 

 

Now only one man was left standing. He shakily retrieves his rifle from the cement. Before Jason could reach him, he pulls the trigger. 

 

At the impact of the bullet, Jason hitches backwards with a beastial roar of pain. 

 

For a moment, Jason wavered on his feet, his eyes tightly closed. He continued forth, step by step.

 

The man let another shot fly. 

 

Jason staggered a moment, but continued. 

 

Another step. 

 

Another air splitting shot.

 

Jason now stood in front of the man, several inches taller, looking down at him like an adult glaring disapprovingly to a child.

 

He took the man by his head and jaw, tightly. 

 

I felt my heartbeat pulse violently in my throat, a reaction of apprehension of what was to come. 

 

The man suddenly screams up into the face of the bull. 

 

His voice echoes through the street. 

 

“ _ You fucking monster.”  _

 

Jason snaps his neck, cleanly. 

 

The man’s body lifeless body falls victim to gravity, and meets the earth with a disgruntling thud.

 

Jason stood for a moment, trembling in the blinding white glare of the street lights.

 

He collapses, attempting to catch himself with his knees, but nonetheless painfully hits the cement on his back. 

 

“ _ Jason!”  _

 

I scream, and ignoring the searing protests of my brain and the pain in my limbs, I limp towards the bulking form of the fallen bull. 

 

Unnervingly, his body was trembling, deflating and shrinking. His muzzle was disappearing, the hair covering his body dissolving back into human skin. 

 

He was looking more and more like the man I had gotten to know for the past four days. 

 

When I reach him, I fall to my knees beside him, ignoring the painful scream of my legs. 

 

Bullet wounds spot like polka-dots in his flesh, blood surging over his body, looking black in the bright illumination. 

 

He opens his eyes to my voice.

 

“Shit. Jason-Jason- we need to get you to a hospital.” 

 

His face was almost human, his shrinking muzzle slightly jutting outwards, still giving him foreign and animal-like features. 

 

He shook his head slowly. 

 

“It’s too late.” 

 

His voice was hoarse.

 

I feel my body trembling, I protest.

 

“ _ No- NO-  _ don’t say that, Jason we can get you to a-”

 

The man suddenly grips the collar of my shirt, now damp with my sweat. 

 

His face now returned to normal, blood smoothing over his beard, his brown eyes glaring desperately into mine. The same face that, what seemed like only a moment ago, had smiled at and offered to walk and get groceries. 

 

He was sucking in feeble, labored breath, a nauseating moistness to the sound as he chokes on his blood.

“Alex- listen to me. I’m not going to make it,” 

 

His fist trembled in its grip. 

 

“A team is arriving tomorrow to pick me up at the cafe. The Night Blades took my sister, Alex. Please- you have to get her back,” 

 

He suddenly tilts his head away, his free hand paws uncoordinatedly for a jagged piece of torn metal from on of the vehicles. He takes it, trembling in his fingers, and looks back to me. 

 

“I have never met a human like you, you helped me nonetheless if it was a mistake you knew you were making- and its more than I could ever say for myself.” 

 

Suddenly, spitting out a clot of bloody mucus, he sinks the jagged piece of metal deeply into his chest, and he cringes, uttering a deep grunt of pain. 

 

I move to stop him. 

 

“ _ Jason-stop- what the fuck are you doing?”  _

 

He pulls the shard out of his body, leaving a fine incision on his hairy pectoral. It was now painted a deep red with his blood, it trickled lightly onto himself. 

 

He takes a shuddering breath, and mutters: 

 

“I’m sorry for this.” 

 

He thrusts the shard deeply into my side. Pain jolts with the vigor of electricity up my body, and cry out, recoiling from him, stumbling away from him. 

 

“ _ What the hell?”  _

 

I scream at him. 

 

He only looks at me, his eyes glassy, reflecting the stark brightness of the lights around us. 

 

“My kind need people like you, Alex.” 

 

He said softly. 

 

“Please, Alex. Save her…” 

 

And then there was nothing in those glassy eyes. 

 

I laboriously climb to my feet, the shard stinging in my side. 

 

“ _ Fuck-”  _

 

I gasp, as I pull it out with trembling hands. It clatters lightly to the concrete. 

 

I stumble away from Jason’s corpse, unable to look at it anymore, my brain failing to register what had just happened-what any of this was. 

 

In the distance, I hear the wailing pound of sirens against the buildings of the city. 

 

I move uncoordinatedly down the street, to the only place I could possibly go, 

 

as the sun finally set and the night wrapped its pitch blackness across the sky. 


	8. Chapter 8

I sit on the La-Z-Boy in Josh and I’s apartment, my hands clasped tightly together, turning white, as I attempt to calm the screaming of my nerves. 

 

Patrick stood by the window, peering steadily out into the darkness that had finally set over Starkfield. 

 

Josh had called only moments before, his speaking voice breathless with panic, informing us that an inhabitant of Alex’s apartment complex reported hearing gunshots and screams from Alex’s apartment. What the police found was his door clean off its hinges, the living room riddled in bullet holes, the bodies of dead and unconscious men and women littered on the floor. 

 

Alex and Jason was nowhere to be seen. 

 

Unable to find comfort in my sitting position, I stand and pace my living room, my heart beat erratic in my chest, sweat forming beads on my scalp. 

 

Suddenly, from his place at the window,  Patrick speaks up.

 

“They’re going to find him, Andy. Calm down.” 

 

I find myself unintentionally snapping back, bitterly. 

 

“And what if they  _ don’t?”  _

 

I say, attempting to calm my breathing. I place my hands over my eyes, feeling regret burning in my face. 

 

“This is  _ my  _ fault. Maybe- maybe if I hadn’t told those men about Jason, Alex would still be safe?” 

 

I suddenly find the anger smoldering under my skin like coals too difficult to contain.

 

I strike out with my foot at my coffee table, sending it flying into the wall of the living room with a loud bang. 

 

“I’ve lost my fucking brother, Pat. This is my fault.” 

 

Patrick moves towards me steadily, putting his hands firmly on my shoulders, looking sternly into my eyes. 

 

“You can’t do this to yourself-” 

 

He was saying, but a sharp rapping at the door cut him off. 

 

“Who…?”

 

He mumbled, trailing off. 

 

I jog towards the door, and swing it noisily open. 

 

In the hall, with his hands and side covered in red, stood Alex. 

 

**_._ ** **** **_._ ** **** **_._ **

  
  


I stumble into the apartment, losing my footing and trip. 

 

Andrew immediately catches me, and takes my arm over my shoulder, he leads me to the kitchen table, where I fall heavily onto a chair. 

 

Andrew’s face was white, and Patrick glares at the blood that glazed my hands like gloves. 

 

“ _ What the hell happened?”  _

 

Andrew nearly shouts, his throat tight and shaking with his words.

 

I attempt to steady my breathing and heart rate, sucking in deep inhalations of air that shook with the fear and panic that burned my insides. Sweat drips profusely from my neck and brow. 

 

My words nonetheless of my efforts came out a shaky and disoriented mess. 

 

“Jason- he- he-” 

 

I gasp in a breath-

 

“He was shot- he’s dead- men came into the apartment and-” 

 

Suddenly Andrew takes my quivering shoulders in his hands.

 

“Alex- calm down, everything is fine, everything is going to be fine- I’m calling the police.”

 

“No! You-” 

 

I attempted to say, but Andrew wasn’t listening, he pulls his cellphone from his pocket and swiftly dials 9-1-1. 

 

I get up from my chair, ignoring Patrick’s stern protests for me to relax. 

 

The deep incision on my side stings sharply in my abrupt motion to stop Andrew.

 

“You can’t- you don’t understand-” 

 

Suddenly a warm sensation steals my body. 

 

My heart rate suddenly bolts faster than before, pounding violently in my chest, rattling my rib cage.

 

My blood felt heavy.  The world felt as if to churn around me. 

 

Andrew had hung up the phone, reading my expression, both him and Patrick posed to assist me if I were to collapse. 

 

The warm sensation strengthened, nausea rising numbly in my throat. 

 

“I-”

 

I stutter, blinking in attempt to clear my vision. 

 

“I’m going to the bathroom.” 

 

They attempt to follow as I stumble blindly into their hallway, but I slam the door behind me as I clammer into the bathroom, locking it.

 

Discarding the idea of reaching the toilet, my hands grip the counter of the sink as I retch, and to no-surprise, nothing comes up from my empty stomach. 

 

I stare into my reflection in the smeared mirror, at my paling, trembling body, my hands coated in Jason’s blood like gloves, my wound burning at my side.

 

_ What’s happening to me?  _

 

From the window, a full moon had finally risen into the black of the night sky, its illumination spilling onto the floor of the bathroom. 

 

The warm sensation intensifies to a scolding heat that surged and spread throughout my entire being. 

 

I groan, as the muscles of my body violently contract. 

 

I stifle a scream that threatened to reverate up my throat. 

 

Suddenly, in a pressing force, my pectorals begin to swell, bulging out of my shirt. 

 

I lose my footing, and my back smacks against the wall of the bathroom.

 

I gasp for air, feeling my deltoids as they press outwards, my biceps and triceps convulsing as they steadily grow in size, my torso and arms tearing my t-shirt. 

 

My fingers wrack against the tiles of the wall, my groans deepening to a sound that couldn’t possibly be coming from me. 

 

Veins strain from my muscles, protruding my body like thick wires. 

 

My back is pushed off the wall as my lats expand monstrously, my shoulder muscles and traps straining as they swell vigorously in size. 

 

The skin on my body stretches painfully, attempting to make room for the thickening muscle mass, as my quads trembled as they fatten, my hamstring and calves transforming to absurdly lean products of raw masculinity. 

 

I felt myself grow inches taller, my bones cracking painfully,  and lost in the burning and inflation of my body, a deep reverberant roar rattles my throat and fills the bathroom. 

 

From the otherside of the door, Andrew calls, concern clear in his tone:

 

“ _ Alex was that you?  _ What’s going on in there?”    
  


He pounds against the door. 

 

My shirt and jeans now lay in a disarray of ripped fabric over the tiles of the floor. I stood now in stretched underwear.

 

Short, rough brown hair sprouts over my body, spreading over like a fervent moss.

 

I feel the heat smooth lower down my abdominals slowly, over the well defined six pack that strained against my obliques, until it hovered intensely in my genitals. 

 

I moan as I feel my cock thicken beneath my underpants, pressing painfully against the fabric as it lengthens, its growing mass taking up the now unspacious undergarment. 

 

With trembling hands, I rip of the underwear off, letting my genitals fall free. 

My thin layer of pubic hair was filling out, becoming a thick bush.

My testicles sink deeper into my sack, ballooning, hanging low and heavily behind my thick cock. My cock that once barely reached three inches now hung an obscene 6 inches soft. The reddish head of my cock fattened, bulbous against my thick shaft. 

 

My skull cracks, sending a jolt of hot pain through my head, as my facial features push outwards, forming a broad muzzle. 

 

My hands reach blindly up to my skull, as my ears change shape, and two horns curl out of my skull, arcing towards the ceiling.

 

As abruptly it all came, the hot sensation dulled, disappearing entirely, leaving me to lean against the wall, my now massive chest heaving labored breaths, the muscle and skin still quivering even as the transformation had ended. 

 

I look into the reflection of the mirror, and what I saw was the humanoid bull, practically identical to what I had seen get shot down under the city streets lights, except for the jewel green of my irises glinting from the eye sockets of the burly creature. 

 

A broad and short muzzle led to moist black nostrils that flared as I sucked in breaths. 

 

Dense horns arc from my skull, scratching the ceiling of the bathroom. 

 

I take a step forward, the feeling of movement unrecognizable, and feel my knees nearly give out beneath the new mass I was carrying. 

 

_ No. _

 

I continue to glare at the beast in the mirror. 

 

_ This can’t be me. This can’t be happening. No- not to  _ me. 

 

The world was finally slowing its rapid spin over my vision. 

 

Another set of pounding from the bathroom door. 

 

“Alex?  _ Alex!  _ Let us in, what’s going on.” 

 

I stumble from the door, succeeding in bumping into a candle on the counter, that shattered on the floor. 

 

My eyes meet with the window of the bathroom, the moon gleaming wickedly, seeming to almost smirk at me. 

 

I grip the window panel, and push it open. Unadjusted the raw power in my arms, I push too hard, and the window swings into the outside wall, shattering loudly. 

 

I place a knee onto the window, but I look back suddenly, to bathroom door, where Andrew’s pounding still insured, shaking the bathroom in a rhythmic motion. 

 

_ I’m sorry.  _

 

I turn from the door, and squeeze myself through the window, and fall from it, where the blackness of the night consumes me as I hurdle a story down. 


	9. Chapter 9

I awaken to the loud, but innocent chirping of birds, leaves and tree limbs rustling in correspondence of their antics, somewhere far above. I open my eyes. The lush greens of the treetops, bright pale sunlight seeping through the canopy lay hovering above me. For several moments, I lay in a somnolent daze, glaring up at the world above, until my mind finally caught up. That’s when I, an abrupt and sharp wave of panic flashing over my body, bolt upwards from where I lay on the rugged earth. I glare down to myself, where I sat completely naked, specks of dirt and leaves glazed to my skin from the ground I slept on all night. None of it was a dream… I stare down to my now thick and raw pectorals, accompanied by chest hair I had never been able to grow before, all finished off with an absurdly well defined v-taper. Unlike when I had been a bull, among my muscled obliques, I now only sported a pack of four lean abs. A deeply carved V of my lower abdominals led a newly acquired burly bush of pubic hair, and my junk. My cock was thick as it lay over my balls that sagged against the dirt of the forest floor. It had clearly lost an inch or so of length in comparison to my other form, but nonetheless, I was sporting an impressive piece of meat that I could never have dreamed of having, clearly five inches soft, my mushroom head more bulbous and plump than it had ever been. I slowly climb to my feet, gently flexing my biceps that bulged outwards, greeting me happily with their raw mass. This… This can’t be my body. No- how could this possibly be real? I glare around my surroundings, attempting to find anything familiar about my location in the forest. Peering through the trees obstructing my vision, I see the outline of a large building, the yellow markings on the concrete of a large parking lot laying before it, only a few cars here and there filling the places in the early morning. That had to be Walmart. I slowly start maneuvering through the trees. I remember, although blurry and disoriented from the fast pace of the events of last night, Jason unintentionally leaving his bag of large clothes in my living room. At the thought of Jason, a vivid flash of his bullet festered body burned behind my eyelids. I struggle to push the thought away. I had to go one step at a time. I needed to get to my apartment, and retrieve clothes. I need time to think. If I maneuvered the forest line as long as I could, I could possibly make the few blocks to my apartment without being seen. I would need to stick to the alleys. I pick up my pace, feeling oddly energetic, my footsteps heavier than usual. My jog suddenly escalated to a sprint. I couldn’t but chuckle (acknowledging a new and unmistakable deepness to it) as my muscled legs take powerful strides, sending me forward at an absurd speed, beyond human capability. An intoxicating feeling of power and strength coursed up and down my body, insinuating a delightful tingle through my muscles, as I bound across my forest cover. Squirrels loudly scamper up trees in evading panic as I bullet past. Excitement and happiness press warmly against my face. I was feeling more incredible than I had in years. Childhood joy was filling my being with the demonstration of my abilities. Finally, I reached the farthest distance I could go in the forest, idling to a heavy-stepped halt at the edge of the treeline. I put my hands on my knees, breathing heavily in the chilled morning air, a smile spread over my features. This... This is incredible. I look once more to my body, unable to believe that it was real, science and all rules of life deeming it all an utter impossibility, but yet, here it was. I look up from my positioning at the treeline, and pick out my apartment complex protruding the tops of buildings only a few blocks away. Before me: a steep slope made moist and muddy with morning dew led to a mostly empty street, only a car are two driving past, more than likely the late crowd to the usual morning traffic. If anyone sees a man naked out on the street, I’m going to be reported. I have to quick and discrete. But unconsciously, I knew I could do it, my body knew I could. I leap down the street, feeling my forceful yet graceful foot falls as I barrel down the street, the muscles of my legs jostling in a wide, strutting motion. I enter an alleyway, carefully eyeing my surroundings for bystanders and continue my unfathomably fast pursuit. It took mere seconds to reach the alley of my apartment, my bare feet scraping against pavement as I saunder to a stop right in front of the fire escape. The ladder was still unlatched and stood on the moist pavement. I quickly climb up the ladder, casting nervous glances over my shoulders in case someone walked past the alleyway, and scale the rusted steps three floors up, to my bedroom window. The window had been shut. Through the glass which was glinting in the morning’s rays, my room was dark. I try the window, but it had been latched on the other side. The police must have searched the place. I stood, the breeze in my elevated position pleasantly brushing my naked body, contemplating my circumstances. I look down to my feet. Maybe, I could kick the glass in? I’d have to be careful if I don’t want to cut the hell out of my foot. I glare down from my place on the fire escape. A passerby saundered across the opening of the alleyway, but paid me no attention, his gaze latched unmoving from his smartphone screen. I had no other option. I raise my foot carefully, and strike against the glass. Unused to the extended power of my legs, I added too much force to the kick, and most of the glass broke away from the window pane with a sharp crack, clattering noisily on the wood panels of the bedroom floor. Bringing my leg back beneath me, I was careful not to touch the jagged pieces that remained, pointing wickedly against the pane. My foot was thankfully unscathed. I pull the remaining bits of glass out of my way, and manage to squeeze through the window, stepping unsteadily into the darkness of my room. Through the dark, the drawers of my desk and dresser had been opened and rummaged through, along with my closet, its door wide open. I move through the room, careful of the glass specked beneath my bare feet. I enter the hallway. The rest of my apartment was unlit, fresh morning sunlight spilling out brightly onto the floors and cupboards of my kitchen and living room. The bodies were gone, what remained was what looked to be the progress of an investigation that had ensued last night. Bullet holes riddle the floors and walls. One bullet had managed to catch one of windows of the living room, glass splayed out on the floor, the sunlight casted from the window illuminating the fragments with a bright sparkle, like stars. The door was still on the floor, and taking its place on the broken door frame, was yellow police tape plastered haphazardly over the open space. I glare at the mess that had become of my apartment, my heart suddenly feeling numb and heavy in my chest. No-no-no- I thought, my eyes frantically tracing the floor. Where the hell are the clothes- did they take them?? I drop to my knees, and glare beneath my old couch. And there the Walmart sack was, nearly against the wall the couch sat against. I retrieve the sack, with a rush of relief. Inside: a white shirt, underwear, jeans and socks. No shoes, and there was no way I was squeezing my now large feet into my spare men size ten. This will have to do. I slip the clothes on, the warm and shielding presence of clothing feeling relieving on my body. I step into my bathroom, and flip the light on, which blinked into illumination with its aged yellow glow. What stood in the reflection of the mirror was a man a little over six foot. I run my fingers through a short and decently filled beard of brown hair on my face, something I could hardly grow before. My facial features had filled in and became more prominently bulky, in comparison to my once very narrow jawline and features. I now sported a husky face that was rather good looking, to be honest with myself. Now… I look so much like Jason. My broad shoulders, my jaw, everything was so similar, other than my green eyes that was shaded in the golden light of the aged lightbulb. Jason’s bloodied face suddenly burns in the back of my mind, almost real enough that I could reach out and touch him. A team is arriving tomorrow morning to pick me up at the cafe. I grip the bathroom counter, hearing his words, feeling heat in my face, feeling faint. Why did he do this to me? I thought, glaring at the man who stared back at me in the mirror. I step out of the bathroom and shut off the light. I can’t go back to the life I had before I met Jason, not looking like this, not when there are people trained to hunt me down. Andrew, Josh and Patrick’s face shift dimly in my thoughts, as I climb out of my bedroom window, and cast one last look to the apartment I was leaving. I have to leave everything. All I have now is this path that Jason has thrown me on. I close my eyes tightly, fighting off the burning sensation of tears in my eyelids. Before my thoughts could change my mind, I scale down the firescape, and leave the darkened apartment I’d never see again P


	10. Chapter 10

“Sir, your feet must be hurtin’.”

 

I break my gaze away from the tiled flooring of the cafe.

 

The cafe’s owner: John, was looking at me curiously.

 

I simply nod to him, keeping my gaze lowered, even though he couldn’t possibly recognize me with this new body.

 

John chuckled, scratching at his flimsy white beard thoughtfully, and continued:

 

“You seem familiar, have you been in here?”

 

“No.”

 

I say immediately. The deepness of my reply startled me, and I brush my fingers against my adam’s apple lightly.

 

How much did my testosterone increase? Jesus Christ…

 

To my relief John shoved his curiosity to the side.

 

“Must be gettin’ forgetful in my age,”

 

He chuckled, innocently.

 

“But I swear I’ve seen those green eyes somewhere.”

 

He asked if I needed something, and when I politely dismissed him, he busied himself once more with his pile of dishes at his sink, stepping away from me.

 

I take a seat at the counter and paying no attention to the black and white film displayed on it, I daze off at the television.

 

Images of Jason shifted placidly over my vision, images of my friends that had become my family growing up in Starkfield.

I see Jason’s naked and wet body strutting out of the shower. I see his clothes rip as he slowly turns into the beast, I see my own body as I become that beast. The beast he made me into.

 

I could feel that power as I sat in my daze, just beneath my skin, waiting to show me how unhuman I was now.  I could smell the men and women behind me and their morning coffees. The sharp scent of their sweat, the shallow, rhythmic inhalations of their breath that cooed in my eardrums like quiet music.

 

I must had been sitting there for nearly an hour in my gaze, when the chiming of the door bell  stirred me from my thoughts.

 

I look over to see a man and woman stepping into the cafe, their expressions alert and observant as they scan the cafe.

 

The man wore an ordinary shirt and tactical pants, while the woman sported jeans and a leather jacket.

 

It wasn’t their appearance that caused step away from my seat at the counter.

 

It was their scent.

 

I take a deep inhalation of the odor, remembering the familiar scent on Jason, when he would sit on the couch beside me, sweaty, after an afternoon walk.

 

It was a musky scent that lingered with an undeniable trace of animal.

 

I step towards the Therians slowly.

 

I could hear the woman under her breath, towards the man, as she scanned the cafe a few more times.   
  


“He’s not here, Mike.”

 

Their gazes met questioningly with mine as I approached.

 

I look over my shoulder, making sure John was not watching. He was busy with a customer at the counter.

 

“Jason O’Ryan sent me.”

 

I say, but it came out shakily.

 

The two Therians glare at me.

 

I flinch as they forcibly take me by each arm, and walk me out into the morning air, the cafe door chiming behind us. They push me into the alleyway.

 

My heartbeat pulses violently in my throat as the man, Mike, draws a firearm from a holster on his belt and aims it steadily at me.

 

The woman, her voice as plain and cold as her blue eyes, speaks.

 

“Who the fuck are you? Where’s Jason?”

 

I steadily back up, nearly tripping, my hands wavering out in front of me.

 

“He’s dead. The Night Blades killed him. He was living at my place.”

 

The woman’s eyes widened, while Mike’s eyes narrowed questioningly. His voice was sharp, sounding raspy and hollow, as if he were a long time smoker.

 

“Jason informed us he was staying with a human, not a Therian.”

 

There was a long pause, nothing but the subtle sound of traffic wafting between us and the gun pointed at me.

 

“He turned me into one.”

 

The two Therians were taken aback. They exchange expressions I found difficult to read. Mike’s aim on me wavered slightly.

 

Finally, the woman spoke.

 

“Why would lieutenant O’Ryan make you into a Therian. Why?”

 

_Lieutenant O’Ryan?_

 

I was speechless, my hands still splayed out before me.

 

Mike lowers his weapon, and clasps his hand on the woman’s shoulder, he looks steadily at me with hard grey eyes.

 

“We will test your DNA at headquarters. If you share Lieutenant O’Ryan’s blood, you’re telling the truth.”

 

The man slides past the woman, and pulls handcuffs from his pants.

 

I obey immediately and put my hands behind my back. I flinch as the metal sets tightly against the skin of my wrists with a click.

 

From behind me, the man speaks plainly:

 

“Give us any reason to be suspicious, and we will shoot you where you stand.”

 

With that, I’m pushed forward out of the shade of the alleyway, and into the sunlight of the crisp morning


	11. Chapter 11

  
  


I had not known how long we had driven, once I was lead into the Therian’s white van, and took a spot in the seatless rear end of the van, as the Therian woman and Mike took the drivers seat and passenger seat, but I must had drifted into a sleep deprived doze, because within what felt like minutes of driving, I was shaken abruptly awake. 

 

My eyes snap heavily open.

 

The woman kneels before me, her hands on my shoulders, her blue eyes cast in shadow. 

 

“Wake up, we’re here.” 

 

I glare around the van, managing clumsily to my feet. 

 

“Where are we?” 

 

“Headquarters.”

 

Mike replies, as he opens the passenger door and steps out. 

 

The woman leads me out of the van, and around me stands a large parking bay, cement walls and a ceiling standing broadly over the expanse of the bay, where vehicles were emerging from the large entrance that was under heavy surveillance, sunlight brightly spilling from it, revealing shockingly green spruce trees and a wide dirt road that lay beyond.   

 

A group of armed Therian men and women stand in front of the van, their bodies dressed in that familiar skin tight black and silver suit that Jason had been wearing, their  eyes set steadily on me. 

 

The woman immediately replies at the sight of my foreboding expression. 

 

“They’re simply here to escort you, in case you are having any consideration of making a run for it.” 

 

She couldn’t have known that I had no intent of doing so. 

 

I am lead, Mike and the woman in front of me, the group of Therian’s behind me, to a large set of doors on one side of the parking bay. Once ushered inside, I was lead steadily down a wide hallway of steel walls and doors. 

 

I was overwhelmed by the raw scent of Therian surrounding me. It quickened my heartbeat, and I could feel a sharp sense of apprehension set in beneath my skin. 

 

We had been walking for what felt like hours before we finally found a set of two doors fitted with thick glass, revealing the inside. 

 

We enter what appeared to be a conference room and office. 

 

A large wooden desk stood in the corner of the room, papers heaped messily over its tabletop, and in the center of the room, a large round table fitted with several chairs. 

 

A tall man stood at the table, a uniform covering neatly over his broad shoulders. His rather grizzled features were fitted with a beard of dark brown, his dark brown eyes set against his features sullenly which added significantly to the recognition of his aging. 

 

Those brown eyes met with mine, as I stood amidst my escorts. 

 

I could smell him from where I stood. 

 

_ He’s Jason’s father.  _

 

Jason had been the splitting image of the man that stood before me, glaring questioningly at me. 

 

He finally spoke up. 

 

“So this is the man?” 

 

The woman nods, standing aside so that he can get a better look at me. 

 

“He claims to have been Turned, commander, by your son before he was killed.” 

 

The commander replies, his voice as grizzled as his features. 

 

“His form is similar to that of my son and I. He smells like him too.” 

 

Mike, standing erect, his hands respectfully before him, speaks. 

 

“Could be simply coincidental.” 

 

The commander shook his head, pushing Mike to the side as he strides towards me, pulling a device from his pants. 

  
The device was slim, made of a thick aluminum, fitted with screen, a capsule and a needle jutting from the end of it. 

 

Without hesitating to warn me, he plunges the needle into one of my shackled forearms. I flinch, stepping slightly backwards as the needle suctions a small portion of my blood, filling the capsule with a small pool of my dark red.

 

The commander pulls the needle from my arm, clearly avoiding my eyes. 

 

Silence draps the room thickly, the Therians standing stiffly guard around me, Mike and the woman watching the commander eagerly as he operates the machine with light occasional finger presses on the touch screen. 

 

As an indication blinks to life on the screen, showing the result of the blood test, I could nearly feel the anticipation wafting from the bodies around me. 

 

Finally, the commander’s voice fills the room. 

 

“The blood test confirms the man’s story. He has my son’s blood.” 

 

This time a different silence follows his words. A tense silence that brought about a sense of disbelief, sadness. 

 

Finally, the man lifts his brown eyes to look at me. 

 

I stand frozen, blood making fine lines that trailed across my forearm like thread. 

 

“So, my son?” 

 

He says slowly, his voice wavering. 

 

I attempt to swallow the thick fixture of mucus that coats my throat. 

 

“He is dead. He died of his bullet wounds, he managed to save me life, and-” 

 

I glare around myself uncomfortably, unsure of the usage of the word. 

 

“Turned me.” 

 

I finish.

 

The commander wearily closes his eyes, and in that expression I truly see his age, his vulnerability. I see now not a tall, broadly spoken man, but a father who has lost now both children.

 

_ The Night Blades took my sister, Alex. Please- you have to get her back- _

 

When the commander opens his eyes, a different expression now structured his features. 

 

His skin was slightly red with anger, his eyes noticeably glassy with moisture. 

 

“Why the hell did he Turn  _ you _ , boy?” 

 

I am taken aback, and struggle to find the words, but he continues:   
  


“Why would his dying act be to Turn a pathetic human into a Therian. Can you tell me that?”

 

That tense silence in the room returns. 

 

I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. I moisten my dry lips, unable to do anything other than stare at the man before me. 

 

But in the back of my head, back beneath the street lights of the horrifying night, I hear Jason’s words: 

 

_ My kind need people like you, Alex. _

 

The commander scoffs at my silence.

 

He turns his attention to the woman. 

 

“Colonel Margery, escort this man to the barracks. He will join our new recruits in training. We might as well put fresh meat nonetheless of its impurity to good use.” 

 

_ Impurity? _

 

Margery nods sharply and quickly, before I could react, I am once again lead away into the never-ending steel hallways, the commander gives me one last glance before turning his gaze away from me, almost in revolt. 

 

As I am lead down the hallways, Colonel Margery speaks to me, in an almost sarcastic tone. 

 

“Congratulations new-blood, welcome to the Therian army.” 


	12. Chapter 12

 

“ _ Recruits! Get your asses up, morning training is about to begin!”  _

 

A loud and jarring voice thrusts me violently from my sleep, and I jerk to a sitting position.

 

I flinch as the overhead lights of the sleeping barracks slam into bright illumination above me on the top bunk of the bunk bed that I slept on. 

 

Around me rows of bunk beds align a large hall, the blankets and the forms of bodies beneath them being thrown off and coming to life, as the men around me prepare for the morning before them. 

 

I release a yawn that was threatening my throat, and slip from the top bunk, landing softly on the cold cement floor. 

 

My bunk-mate, a young slim man with a head of cut short red hair was pulling on the tight black and silver suit that Jason had worn. 

 

He notices me and looks up from his business, eyeing my confused expression, and my white shirt and jeans. 

 

He pats a small dresser beneath out bunk bed with his slim hand and said quickly:

 

“There’s a uniform here for you, newbie. Put it on and follow everyone into the training courtyard.”

 

With that, he quickly slipped on his shirt and jogged towards the exit. 

 

I pull open the drawer, and like the man had said, there was a black and silver suit that looked to be my size waiting for me. 

 

I rip off my old clothes and slip on the uniform, and rush to follow the river-like flow of new recruits as they exit the barracks. I am ushered through a small stretch of hallway and through a set of large metal doors labeled:  _ Training Courtyard  _

 

Once inside, before us lay a large expanse of metal, stretching for hundreds of yards, weightlifting equipment, ellipticals, treadmills and more expensive equipment placed here and there, along with an obstacle course and track in its center.    


Amidst the gathered new recruits, a tall man dressed in a crisp forest green uniform, similar to the commander, stood, waiting for the arrivals to find their places around him and settle down. 

 

He was a slim man with a hardy facial structure that brought out the narrow and thickness of his jawline. His light brown hair was cut military short and his pale face was cleanly shaven. 

 

When the chatter and crowd had settled and all attention was drawn to the man, he spoke, his voice recognizable as the one that had awoken the recruits. 

 

“To those of you who are joining this regiment of recruits, welcome to the Therian army. I am Captain Hodkins.”

 

As the man spoke, I couldn’t help but notice an uncomfortable sense of the recruits around me staring at me. I attempt to ignore it, and continue my attention on Captain Hodkins.

 

“Most of the recruits here have been for at least two weeks, so we will be grouping up into independently selected sparring groups, and testing the knowledge you have gained.”

 

_ “Knowledge I have gained”?? It’s my first day, I’m going to make a fool of myself.  _

 

The captain continued, 

 

“Those of you who are newcomers, you may learn something today from your peers,”

 

With an arcing glance over the recruits surrounding him, he says,

 

“Now, group up, and let's see what you newbloods got.”

 

Immediately the crowd dispersed, people joining together in groups of three to five people. 

 

I haggle about, attempting to get the attention of my peers, but to my dismay, the Therians around me seemed to be ignoring me, avoiding my eye contact and slipping away from my plees to join their group as quickly as they had come from my mouth.    
  


After only moments, I stood alone among the several groups of Therians, who now began to take turns sparring one another in their respective groups. 

 

A sharp coldness smoothed down my chest. I felt alone, outcasted, hated for something I could not comprehend. 

 

Suddenly, from behind me, a hoarse voice hollered from feet away. 

 

“Couldn’t seem to find a sparring group, new blood?”

 

I whip myself around to find three men standing before me. 

 

The speaker, an obscenely tall man at least 6”3’ stood with his arms crossed. The tightness of his uniform brought out the broad shapes of his arms and pectorals, the raw mass of his muscular form visible by almost every detail.  His dark green irises glinted against the whites of his eyes maliciously, his facial structure as full and husky as the hulking body he sported. 

 

_ Jesus Christ, I’ve never seen a man so big.  _

 

And I thought my new height of 6”1’ was impressive. 

 

When I nod in response to him, they step nearer, which in turn brought out the instinct to step back myself. 

 

“What did you expect?”   
  


The large man sneered. 

 

“When your the impure Therian that stole the lieutenant’s powers?” 

 

His two comrades grumbled in a mocking agreement. 

 

_ Impure.  _

 

There was that word again. 

 

I grasp blindly for the courage to reply. 

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

 

A black haired man around my height, to the left of the large man speaks up. 

 

“Bullshit, the story is all over this headquarters. Your the human brat that has our  _ lieutenant’s blood _ .” 

 

I take another step backwards. 

 

“I don’t know why he gave me his powers.”

 

I exclaim at the men, but my words seemed to bounce meaninglessly off their heads. 

 

The rather short man, short brown hair and dark skin, said,

 

“Hey Edan, you should see how well a human can fight off a rhino.”    
  


My body went cold. 

 

_ A rhino.  _

 

A smile spread across the large man’s face: Edan. 

 

He glared at me. 

 

“That’s a great idea Jace.”

 

“No!”

 

I exclaim.

 

“I don’t want to figh-”

 

But before I could finish, Edan begins a brute charge at me. 

 

I don’t know how to react. I step clumsily away from him, shielding face and upper body with my arms. 

 

I wretch painfully as the man’s fist drives violently into my stomach. I felt as if I was struck by a moving vehicle. I’m sent off my feet, and my ass meets painfully with the metal floor. 

 

“ _ One punch!” _

 

Edan scoffed at me, sharing taunting laughter with his comrades. 

 

“One punch and I sent a  _ bull  _ flying!” 

 

I grip my stomach, sucking in labored breaths, attempting to return the breath that was knocked out of me. 

 

I attempt to climb to my feet, but my legs buckle beneath me and fall back onto my ass. My face burned as I glared at Edan. 

 

“So much for having an O’Ryans blood in you. You’re nothing but a pathetic human.”

 

Edan snarled. 

 

Suddenly the familiar booming voice of the captain sounds from the sidelines, and relief rushes over me. 

 

“That is enough!” 

 

But to my horror, even the captain’s words failed to phase the brutish man before me, nothing but violence and ferocity glinting in the eyes of the man before me. 

 

_ Did the captain even care what was happening? Was he simply objecting in order to feel that he had at least done  _ something _ to stop what was happening, nonetheless if it was successful or not? _

_   
_ Edan was preparing for another charge, leaning forward like a track runner preparing for a relay. 

 

But as he was about to charge, someone stepped in between us. 

 

“That’s enough Edan. Back off the new blood. Do you think Captain Blake would be pleased of you abusing your fellow recruits?” 

 

The man before me was much shorter than Edan and I. He must have been at least 5”8’ or a little more. He had a slim form but was clearly lean by the broadness of his shoulders. His blond hair was cut short. 

 

Edan finally replied. 

 

“Back off Grayson or I’ll knock your skinny ass off your feet. Just like I did to that impure twat.” 

 

The man before me appeared unphased, he shifted his feet apart, and stood in a truculent, battle-ready stance. 

 

From his throat, a deep feline growl was emitted that send sharp chills trailing down my back. 

 

His fingernails extended to claws. 

 

Striding from the sideline, the captain steps between the three of us, his hands held authoritatively at the opposing sides. 

 

“Enough.”

 

He snapped, glaring between the two men. 

 

“You all have a half an hour until your next training session. Hit the showers recruits.” 

 

The sparring groups began to disperse immediately. 

 

Edan gave me a heinous glare, before he and his two comrades follow the crowd dissolving towards the exit of the training courtyard. 

 

With one final glance at the two of us, Captain Hodkins walks away, leaving the man and I alone in the courtyard. 

 

The man turns to me, where I sit on the metal floor. 

 

He offers me a hand that was clawless.

 

“Don’t let that dumb brute get to ya’.” 

 

Seeing his face, he had kind light blue eyes that seemed to illuminate in the pale lights above. He had a satisfyingly well defined jaw-line and narrow features, much like the ones I once sported. 

 

“My name is Dan, Dan Grayson.” 

 

I smiled lightly, and took his hand. 

 

“Alex Garren.” 

 

He helped me to my feet but struggled slightly, letting out a short grunt. 

 

“ _ Damn  _ you’re a pretty big guy.”

 

With a shrug, I chuckled.

 

“Thanks for helping me back there.” 

 

Dan begins to walk towards the exit of the courtyard, and motions me to walk with him, and I quickly follow suit. 

 

“No problem. Can’t stand when impure-bloods are treated like shit. You’re just as much a Therian as the rest of us.” 

 

That word, again. 

 

“What does that mean?” 

 

I asked gruffly, my fingers gently caressing the tender spot of my stomach where the punch landed, where more than likely a bruise will develop. 

 

Dan looked at me questioningly. 

 

“What? ‘impure-bloods’?” 

 

I nod. 

 

“Oh,”

 

He began, finally understanding my question. 

 

“It means you were a human before you became a Therian. Impure Therians are mostly looked down upon by our kind.”

 

We reach the exit of the courtyard and enter the hall. I let Dan lead the way to the locker rooms, still knowing nothing about the almost maze-like halls of the  headquarters. 

 

After a few moments of walking down the hall, we reach two doors, one labeled  _ Men’s Locker Room  _ and one  _ Women’s Locker Room.  _

 

We quickly enter the men’s, and are greeted with a screen of hot and foggy moisture thick in the air, the loud running of showers, and the banter of male voices. 

 

The locker room was split into several sections of crimson lockers divided by several cement walls. 

 

At the end of the room, a shower room with no stalls, instead five poles aligned with shower nozzles stood scattered about on its tiled floors. 

 

Naked men and men wrapped in towels were strutting cheerfully out of the showers, talking to one another as they began to dress and leave the locker room. 

 

Dan leads me to a particular locker in the first section, just outside the shower room. 

 

“Have a locker next to mine.”

 

He said, opening his locker and pulling out a towel. 

 

“I uh-”

 

I begin, nervously.

 

“Don’t have belongings to use the locker, really.” 

 

Dan gave me a startled expression, that slowly changed to understanding. He reached again into his locker, and pulled out another towel. 

 

“Congratulations Alex, your first belonging is a  _ towel!”  _

 

He exclaimed cheerfully, and nonetheless of its cheesy-ness, put a smile on my face. 

 

He tossed the towel at me, and I swiftly caught it.

 

He pulled off his shoes, preparing for his shower  and when I didn’t immediately follow suit, looks up questioningly to me. 

 

“You taking a shower, man?” 

 

He asked, pulling off his socks that visibly stuck to his sweating feet. 

 

I hadn’t taken a shower in days, and standing beneath the hot stream of water was all I could think of in this foggy room. But I wanted to do it alone, not surrounded by strangers. At least not today. 

 

I nod to Dan. 

 

“I’ll take one soon.” 

 

I say, taking a seat on the bench that aligned the lockers. 

 

Dan shrugged at me and moved towards the showers. 

 

I sat, my hand still hovering over the pain in my stomach, watching as men slowly leave the showers and locker rooms, until it was apparent that I was one of the last people in here. The banter that had been apparent throughout the room had now dwindled to silence. The final shower that had been running turned off. I could hear the padding of Dan’s bare feet as he sauntered over to his locker. I pull off the shirt of my suit. 

 

I lean down to start untying the shoes that were given to me, and pull them off, along with my socks.  

 

“Finally taking your shower?” 

 

Dan said right next to me. 

 

I turn my head to look at him, but instead, inches from my face was Dan’s cock.

 

It wasn’t the most impressive thing, maybe around three to four inches, but it was rather plump-looking, his cut head stood out against the shaft, pink and delightfully round. 

 

“Bud, your cock is in my face.”

 

I manage to say, beginning to feel uncontainably hot in the face.    
  
“Oh, right- here.” 

 

He stepped a little further away with a good natured shrug. 

 

I reveled at how open he was with his body. 

 

In the back of my head, I hear the voice of Jason, which caused a painful jolt in my chest. 

 

_ My kind are used to being open with our bodies.  _

 

He hadn’t been kidding. 

 

Dan had a lean chest, slightly scruffy with damp blond hair and a set of abs just beginning to form on his abdominals.  

 

I attempt not to stare, so I quickly busy myself removing my clothing. 

 

Dan opens up his locker and begins to dry himself off, but I couldn’t help but notice him casting occasional glances at me, as I pull off my pants, leaving me standing in nothing but my underwear. 

 

When Dan reached his lower-half of his body and began to dry off his junk, I accidentally let another glance slip at cock and balls as he groped them quickly with his towel. I pull my eyes away, but not soon enough for Dan to say: 

 

“Like what you’re seeing?” 

 

I stand with my towel in hand, speechless. 

 

Dan takes a step towards me, so that we were inches apart. 

 

As he neared, suddenly I could smell something on him, that wasn’t an ordinary body odor. It was a sweet smell that slightly jolted my pulse.  

 

I could hear Dan’s heart rate increasing, a quickening rhythmic thumping that I felt almost as clearly as my own. 

 

_ He’s getting excited.  _

 

Once again, I hear Jason’s words in the back of my head, as clear as the day he spoke them. 

 

_ I can sense it, your horniness is practically radiating off of ya’, it’s alright bud.  _

 

Suddenly Dan speaks again.    
  


“Come on, touch me.” 

 

I run my fingers down his pectorals, lightly brushing his stomach and lower abdominals, until my fingers press over the shaft of his cock. 

 

Dan takes a sudden breath at my touch. 

 

I looked down at him, and his eyes were closed, as I trail down his shaft, ending at that plump head of his, and I tug on it. 

 

His cock began thickening into an erection, arcing upwards, greeting me with the maddening pink flare of his head. 

 

Heat burned in my chest. Unable to control my excitement, my own cock fattens and hardens, making a tent in my underwear, my thick head pressing past my waistband,  past my belly button. 

 

Dan looks down to my package and I hear him release a breath. 

 

“Fuck- I knew bulls were big, but-  _ damn.”  _

 

Suddenly he takes me by the waist and pulls my underwear down, and before I could react, our lips were against each other. His lips were soft and thick. I held his neck with my hands, and he pushed me against my closed locker, our cocks pressing tightly against one another.

 

My cock strained in excitement. Our pounding heartbeats heaved against our ribs. With my height, I had to lean down to kiss him, but I couldn’t care any less. 

 

I feel his hand wrap around my cock, and it became so hard it was nearly painful.  

 

“You got yourself a hell of a cock there, bud.”

 

He muttered against my lips, as my hands explores more of him, and squeezes his nice plump ass. 

  
Dan broke away, and lowered himself down my body, running his hands over my thick pectorals, the V of my lower abdominals  and to my cock, that strained heartily in front of his face. 

 

My balls filled his hand as he groped them, squeezing them playfully. 

 

He gave me a grin that only succeeded in making my cock burn unfathomably with excitement and lust. 

 

He wraps his lips over my head, but suddenly the sound of the door of the locker room opening rips through the room, followed by three voices. 

 

As Dan quickly manages to his feet, I cover my cock with my towel. 

  
Dan had no towel to cover himself, which had been lost on the floor during the intensity of our antics, and his erect cock stood out in the moist air for everyone to see. 

 

As the people enter, their voices halt.    
  


Before us, Edan and his two comrades stood, towels and soap clutched in their grasp. 

 

They glare at the scene before them: at me with a towel haphazardly covering my genitals, and Dan, his cock unashamedly erect for them to see.

 

There was silence for several agonizing moments, until Edan speaks. 

 

“Now this is cute,” 

 

He sneered, causing a chuckle to be surfaced by his friends that stood with him. 

 

Edan looked at me with a smirk on his face. 

 

“No wonder he stood up for ya’, he wants some bull cock.”    
  


With an eruption of laughter, they walk out of our sight, towards a different section of lockers, their laughter bellowing hollowly against the walls, followed by a string of demeaning terms that lost meaning in its mangled pronunciation. 

I look over to Dan with a mortified expression, only to see him standing with an innocent, but sheepish expression. 

 

At this point, his cock hung soft against his balls. 

 

He simply shrugs at me with a small smile. 

 

_ Why is he acting like nothing happened? Our peers just caught us getting busy on one another in public.  _

 

I turn to head to the showers, when suddenly Dan puts a hand on my shoulder. 

 

He arches up on his feet to give me a brief kiss on the lips, which was almost enough to get my cock going again. 

 

He said softly into my ear: 

 

“Let’s do that again sometime.” 

 

With that, he gave me a small pat on the ass, and busied himself with getting dressed. 

 

With one last glance at him, I turn and head to the showers, my heart feeling light and warm in my chest. 


	13. Chapter 13

My first day among the Therians continued at a slow and exhausting rate. 

 

Dan’s second training session was a class that focused on the inner-functions of firearms and their usage, that I didn’t have until my third and last training session of the day, so once again I was left alone among the Therian recruits whom swiftly obligated themselves to ignore my existence. 

 

The training session was focused on the animal form of the Therian, instructions on controlling your elevated animalistic instincts during a full moon, how to use your abilities to you advantage during combat, and the type of threat the Therians are faced with: 

 

The Night Blades. 

 

The groups stood around the instructor in the training courtyard, once again: Captain Hodkins.

 

“Your Therian form is the most useful thing to you in the heat of battle. You must be able to control that power within you even under the pressure of life and death. The strategic use of you stamina and powers can be the difference of living to kill a filthy Night Blade another day, or to die at the hands of them.” 

 

He bellows to the crowd around him, almost seeming to meet eyes with each and every person as his gaze glides over them. 

 

“You’re opponents have been trained to fight supernatural entities for centuries, and they will have technological advances and weaponry ready to bring us down the moment we fail to react. That is why today we will practice transforming multiple times, and using the obstacle course.” 

 

I grip the fabric of my tight pants nervously, glaring around at my peers, all determined, all prepared. 

 

But I knew nothing of my abilities. Let alone how to  _ transform willingly. _ I see a flash of the green-eyed humanoid bull that I saw staring back at me in the mirror the night of my first full moon. 

 

I could feel it. I could feel that beast inside of me. But how do I get to it?

Captain Hodkins continues, his voice stretching across the expanse of the courtyard with its volume and power. 

 

“Those of you who can display strategic use of your transformations will be awarded points towards graduation, which in turn will decide how we will place you within the ranks. You may begin.” 

 

My peers once again scattered, many finding their own spots among the training equipment and some lining up to use the obstacle course. 

 

I stood alone, watching as the men and women around me transformed before my eyes. 

 

The bodies of people size up and change from once simple skin and bones into humanoid animals. 

 

Lions- with short fur and thick mane sprouting over their bodies, reptiles- their skin growing scales and darkening to shades of green, grey and red, and more animals beyond my comprehension, the people around me erupting into a vibrance of color and shape. 

 

Suddenly, amidst my daze of amazement of the animals around me, a female voice speaks up beside me. 

 

“Hey- are you okay?”   
  


I jolt slightly in surprise, and turn to find a tall young woman with a head of bright red hair pulled into a ponytail. Her suit was, instead full body like mine, cut short on the sleeves and legs, the top of the uniform in the shape of a tank top. 

 

“You seemed to be just staring at everyone, had me worried that you were going to faint or something.”

 

She continued with her soft and rather fragile voice. 

 

“Oh-” 

 

I sputtered. 

 

“I was just… Amazed at how easily these people are transforming, I guess.” 

 

She gives me a sympathetic look.

“You’ve never transformed, on command- at least, have you?”

 

I simply shake my head, an uncontrollable sense of embarrassment rising in my chest that I couldn’t understand. 

 

“Not surprising I suppose… You’ve only been a Therian for a few days, have you?”

 

She says, stuffing her hands in the pockets of her suit. 

 

“Yeah.” 

 

Suddenly a blur of color darts past us over head, and I gasped slightly, watching as a blue Therian bird flies above the courtyard. Their suit was cut short around their limbs to allow them to fly. 

 

“We’ve only heard about the lieutenant’s death and you yesterday. I saw what happened during the sparring practice today. I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry, and I- I understand what you’re going through.” 

 

I give her a skeptical look, but nonetheless her kind words gave a warm presence inside of me. 

 

“How do you understand?” 

 

I asked her, watching as a humanoid bear suddenly appears, hulking over the crowd of people among it. It let out a roar that blared in my now sensitive ears.

 

“Because I’m an impure Therian, also.” 

 

I look at her in surprise, and open my mouth to say something, but she cuts me off. 

 

“You don’t have to feel bad for me. I have been a Therian since I was ten. I am fully accustomed to the abuse that comes with the label of ‘ _ impure’.  _ You seem to have it a lot worse as it would seem, sharing the blood of the lieutenant’s family.” 

 

To that, I don’t respond. I watch as a humanoid leopard scales the towering rock wall of the obstacle course with grace and ease. 

 

“How about we get off our asses and get you to transform, big guy.” 

 

She says suddenly.  

 

I chuckled, giving her my hand to shake. 

 

“Call me Alex.” 

 

“Oo, Alex huh? I expected a more bruting name for a guy of your… stature?”

 

She takes my hand and gives it a firm shake. 

 

“My name is Salice Johnson, but you can just call me Sal.” 

 

I nod, with a smile. 

 

“Alright Sal. How do we do this? How do I… Uh, transform?” 

 

She chuckles, stepping back a few paces, giving us some room to work. 

 

“You won’t be able to just snap your fingers and magically become a bull. Let’s start… I guess… Where my father started, with me.” 

 

I nod, feeling excitement beginning to burn in my stomach. I was finally about to learn. 

 

After a pause, Sal begins:

 

“It begins with: who are you?”   
  


I give her a questioning look, and respond. 

 

“Alex Garren.” 

 

Sal chuckles lightly. 

 

“No- no- not literally,”

 

She corrected, astutely. 

 

“To make it more simpler for the novice:  _ What are you _ ?”   
  


“Oh! A Therian.” 

 

I say, in realization. 

 

“Yes!” 

 

Sal praised, cheerfully.

 

“You have to start with understanding what you are, and embracing that part of you. Nonetheless of the abuse that we face as impurities among the Therians, we are still one of them. We are responsible for our powers and to use them responsibly.” 

 

I nodded, absorbing every word. 

 

She continued: 

 

“As a former human being, you must accept the fact that you are not  _ human.  _ There is nothing that is going to change that. You are a beast, an oddity among normality, and rather than fearing it you  _ must  _ embrace it. You feel it within you, don’t you? You feel that power underneath your skin awaiting to be set free. Concentrate, reach for it, believe in your strength and the strength that it will give you, and-”

 

She raises her forearm before herself.

 

“And unleash it.” 

 

As she spoke the words, feathers sprouted brightly over her forearm, covering it in a bright crimson.  

 

I stand glaring at her forearm in amazement. 

 

“You’re- you’re a-” 

 

“A bird? Yeah, I am.” 

 

She finished for me with a smile. 

 

She concentrated on one part of her body, and made the transformation take place on only one part. Maybe I can do that. 

 

“Alright,” 

She said, as the feathers sheathed slowly back into her skin. 

 

“Your turn. Concentrate.”

 

She clenched her fingers into tight fists in anticipation, as I stood straight, rolling up my sleeve, spreading my feet in concentration and focusing on my forearm.

 

_ Concentrate, reach for it.  _

 

I close my eyes. 

 

In the darkness behind my eyelids, I focus on the presence within myself that has been following me ever since I had woken up after that full moon. That lingering presence of  _ something  _ just beneath the surface of my skin. Something unnatural. Something powerful. 

 

I grit my teeth. Once again I see that green eyed bull in the mirror that couldn’t be me but  _ was me. _

 

_ It was  _ me.  

 

This body is mine, that power is mine. Nonetheless of why Jason made me into what I am, this is what I am now. I will never be able to see Andrew again, or Josh, or Patrick. 

 

But that isn’t my life anymore. 

 

I stare at that humanoid bull hulking in the center of Andrew’s bathroom, and scream into its face. 

 

_ Come out!  _

 

Suddenly, a warm sensation slowly wafts over my forearm, tingling, growing in intensity. 

 

I opened my eyes, to see dark brown fur sprouting over my forearm. 

 

Sal cries out: 

“You did it! Christ, you did it on your first try! You’re a  _ natural! _

 

In my excitement, I lost full control of the warmth spreading slowly over my forearm, and it disappeared entirely, the small patch of fur dissolving back into my skin along with it. 

 

“ _ Damn it!  _ I lost it.” 

 

I shout in annoyance, throwing my arm back down to my side.    
  


Sal steps closer with a reassuring grin. 

 

“It was your first try, and you  _ did something. _ ” 

 

She put a hand on my shoulder, and for the first time since becoming a Therian I felt something powerful within myself. 

 

Was it hope? 

 

Smiling, Sal says, 

 

“We might yet make you into a Therian, Alex. We might yet.” 


End file.
